Radclyffe - Promising Hearts

  "He did."

  "I'm glad you didn't listen."

  Vance kissed Mae's forehead, then the corner of her mouth.

  She kissed her gently, taking care not to brush the tender areas as she skimmed her lips over Mae's. She stroked her throat with her fingertips, then dipped beneath her robe to caress her breasts lightly. When she heard Mae's breath hitch and felt her tremble she stopped. "I'm sorry.

  I didn't mean to--"

  "You have the most wonderful touch." Mae held Vance's hand to her breast. "I love your hand there."

  "Close your eyes," Vance whispered, softly caressing her again.

  She rested her cheek against Mae's hair and breathed in her scent. She continued to hold her, stroking her shoulders, her arms, her breasts, until she was asleep. She lay awake listening to Mae's quiet breathing, absorbing the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat into her own chest. The rage was too potent to let her sleep, but the love would let her rest.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  When Mae awakened to the sensation of Vance beside her in bed, she stayed perfectly still so as not to disturb the wonder of the moment. Vance's body was hot and firm, and her fingers glided slowly up and down Mae's arm in a steady, mesmerizing rhythm.

  Mae could tell she was awake from the quiet tension that suffused her body. Ordinarily, what Mae wanted more than anything else was for the person in her bed to leave her in peace. Now, she discovered that the presence of this particular woman delivered it to her.

  "Did you sleep at all last night?" Mae murmured as she fit her body more tightly to Vance's.

  "Some," Vance lied. She'd taken far too much pleasure in gently caressing Mae as she'd slept to want to sleep herself. While the human body had always fascinated her in its miraculous construction and ingenious workings, she'd never before felt the kind of excitement that lying next to Mae had stirred in her. Mae's skin was so soft, the curve of her hips and breasts so graceful, the heat of her flesh so enticing that Vance had to struggle not to wake her with the urgency of her response.

  She wanted more. She wanted to never stop touching her.

  "You deliver some kind of personal service," Mae joked lightly, stretching to carefully kiss the corner of Vance's mouth.

  "Only to you." Vance turned on her side and studied Mae's face in the early morning light. The unblemished portions of her face were beautiful. Pale, delicate skin over fine bones. Her bruises were even uglier in daylight, however, and fury tangled with tenderness. Vance shivered and lightly skimmed her fingertips over Mae's jaw. "How do you feel?"

  "If I don't count the aches and pains, I've never felt better in my life."

  Vance laughed. "I think my question has to do with those aches and pains."

  Mae stroked the hair from Vance's forehead and kissed her softly.

  "I've never opened my eyes next to anyone I've loved before. That's all I can feel right now."

  Vance jerked and drew a swift breath. "Mae."

  "Oh, I know women like me aren't supposed to have feelings like tha--"

  "Don't, now." Vance stopped Mae's words with a kiss, mindful of her injuries even as she slicked her tongue hungrily inside the moist recesses of Mae's mouth. The dam she had not known she had erected to hold back her wants and needs was crumbling, and she was helpless to stem the rush of desire. She yanked her mouth away from Mae's, panting. "I'm aching for you." Shuddering, she closed her eyes. "So much."

  "No need to stop," Mae whispered. She found Vance's hand and drew it inside her robe to her breast. When warm, strong fingers closed over her nipple, she whimpered.

  "I'll hurt you," Vance groaned. "You don't know what I'm feeling."

  She rested her forehead against Mae's, her eyes tightly closed. "I never thought to want anything, any one , the way I want you. Even if you weren't injured, I'd be afraid."

  Mae laughed quietly even as her body quickened. "Oh, sweetheart.

  You think your touching me with caring will hurt me, ever?"

  "I think if I do what I'm wanting to do right now, it might."

  "Well then, why don't you do what I want you to do?"

  Vance opened her eyes, her head thick with arousal. Mae's breast lay heavy in her hand and her green eyes shimmered, inviting her to touch, to take. Still, she had enough reason left to know she couldn't.

  Not when the price of her pleasure would be Mae's pain. "I want to.

  I don't know how good I'll be at it, but I'll do my best. But not until you're well."

  "Oh, I think you'll do just fine," Mae said. The slow play of Vance's fingers over her breasts was nearly enough to carry her over, but she resisted the heavy swirl of passion between her thighs because there was something else she wanted more. "But just this minute it isn't you touching me I want."

  Vance tensed. "I...I've never. With anyone."

  "Mmm. I remember." Mae opened the top button on Vance's shirt.

  Then she started on the second. "I've been thinking about that. How much I like being the first to touch you."

  "I'm not...I wish..." Vance stilled Mae's hand. "I wish I were as beautiful as you. That I could be as pleasing to you as you are--"

  "For a woman so smart," Mae said, tears brimming on her lashes, "you're just plain stupid about some things."

  Vance grinned. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

  Mae parted Vance's shirt, exposing her small, perfectly formed breasts. "I can't but think of you and my knees go weak." She smoothed her hand across Vance's chest, tracing breast and nipple and scar tissue as if all were priceless gems. "I see that handsome face of yours and I get tight inside, needing you to touch me, wanting you to take me places no one else ever has." She looked into Vance's eyes, circling one red fingernail around Vance's nipple, then squeezing until Vance arched and groaned. "You're just exactly the kind of woman who pleases me."

  "I can't think what with wanting you to keep touching me."

  Vance's voice was tight, strained, nearly as tense as her body, which trembled with barely contained excitement. "I have this terrible need for you somewhere inside me."

  Mae moaned softly. "Oh, I know. I know because I feel it, too."

  She rested her cheek between Vance's breasts. "Hold me."

  Vance circled Mae's shoulders and pulled her near, telling herself that this would be enough for now. Desperately hoping that her body would not betray her. She feared that Mae's embrace alone would be enough to ignite the powder keg of arousal that simmered so near to brimming over. She felt so close to slipping over the edge that the slightest brush of Mae's fingertips caused dangerous ripples of pleasure to dance along her thighs. She groaned and clenched her jaws tightly.

  Urgently, she whispered, "Stop touching me now. Just let me get my senses back."

  "Oh no. I plan to touch you senseless." Mae slid her hand beneath the waistband of Vance's drawers. "I want you to be still and let me."

  Had she her other arm, Vance would have pulled Mae's hand from between her thighs where it had come to rest. As it was, one armed, she was too slow, and before she could protest, exquisite pleasure burst beneath Mae's ceaselessly caressing fingers. Had she been able to think enough to consider stopping, she couldn't have. Her body claimed its reward even as Mae claimed her heart. Her release started as a sweet fist in the pit of her stomach, then raged along her spine and down her legs, and finally exploded, burning all thought from her mind. She cried out, and then cried, her face buried in Mae's hair.

  "Here now. Your heart's hammering like to burst," Mae marveled, her face still cradled against Vance's chest.

  "It's about to break," Vance said unevenly, "from holding so much happiness."

  "You don't have to hold it, sweetheart. There's lots more coming."

  Mae was satisfied in a way she had never imagined. She had given true pleasure from the heart, two things she had never experienced before.

  She felt full, sated, as if Vance's release had been her own. She wanted Vance's touch as much
as ever, but for the moment, she was content. "I just couldn't wait any longer for you."

  "I think it unfair," Vance said, her voice rusty from holding back the well of emotion that threatened to undo her, "that you have me at such a disadvantage." She tangled her fingers in Mae's hair and tilted her head back before gently kissing her eyelids, her bruised cheek, her mouth. "In that circumstances prevent me from taking my pleasure in you or returning what you have bestowed upon me."

  "I consider it downright clever," Mae teased. "I'm hoping it will be enough to get you back again."

  Suddenly serious, Vance said, "You can't think that a few moments of pleasure are all I seek?"

  Mae grew still. "I don't like to think too much beyond the moment.

  I've learned that hoping for something often leads to disappointment."

  "And what is it that you hope for?" Vance stroked down the center of Mae's back to her hip, then over the curve of her body to her stomach.

  She opened her fingers as if to encompass all of her in the palm of her hand. "Beyond today?"

  Silently, Mae shook her head, fearing that putting words to her dreams would cause them to shatter.

  "There was a time," Vance said quietly, "that I knew the shape of my future. I knew where I would live, what I would do. Who I would be. I did not know who or even if I would love, but knowing the other things made that loneliness bearable." She kissed Mae. "Now I am not certain who I am or what my future will be. But I know who I love. And that matters more than all the rest."

  "I'm not the woman you should love," Mae whispered. "But I don't have it in me to tell you not to."

  "How can you judge who I should love? Can you feel the pain in my heart that eases only when you touch me? Can you know the despair that lifts only when you smile?" Vance closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against Mae's hair. "Can you imagine the loneliness that fades only when you're near?"

  "Some of that I know," Mae said. "Because you give me that, too."

  "I know that I come to you less than I once was," Vance tilted Mae's face up to hers with a fingertip beneath her chin, "and for that, I'm sorry."

  Mae's eyes narrowed. "I still have that nice warm feeling that comes from loving you this way. But I can lose it pretty fast if you keep up that kind of talk. You might have thought you were more before you lost your arm. Before you lost your brother. Or your home, or your way of life. Maybe you were. I have no way of knowing. But I know who you are now. I see your strength, and your goodness, and your gentleness. That missing arm hurts me, but there's nothing about you that makes me wish for more."

  Vance smiled crookedly. "Then I count myself extremely lucky."

  "That's better." Mae sighed. "I hate for you to go, but I imagine the town is waking up about now. You can't be seen coming and going from my room at all hours."

  "I have every intention of coming and going from your room whenever I am welcome." Vance made no move to get up and her voice had taken on an edge. "Which I hope is often."

  "Lord, Vance. No matter what we are to each other, in the eyes of the townspeople we've no business being together. Two women, they might overlook. The town doctor and a whore? Never."

  "I don't care what the opinion of others may be." Vance stirred with uneasiness. "Unless the anger is directed at you."

  "What happened yesterday had nothing to do with you," Mae said quickly.

  "Have you ever considered just leaving here? Giving this up?"

  Mae laughed bitterly. "And what would I do? Even if I could leave my past behind, I have nothing with which to make a future. If I had, I wouldn't be here now."

  Carefully, Vance said, "I have resources. I could lend you--"

  "No," Mae said quickly. "I won't take money from you. Not now, not ever. What happens between us--"

  "Has nothing to do with money," Vance said angrily. "You insult me to suggest that. And yourself."

  Mae sat up, pulling the sheet above her breasts. "What am I to think, then?"

  "That I care for you and want to help you. Or is it only I who should accept help without question?" Vance pushed up on the bed and started to button her shirt. "Is it only I who needs caring for?"

  "No. No," Mae said softly. She stifled the urge to help Vance button her shirt. For her it would have been an act of love. For Vance, one of pity, and she would not risk that. "Tell me, then, what you're thinking."

  Vance took a long breath and reined in her temper. When Mae reached over and tentatively began buttoning the rest of her buttons, she tilted her head back against the wall and sighed. "I was thinking I could help you buy a house or start a business or--buy coach fare to somewhere else."

  "Leave here?"

  "If that's what you wanted."

  Mae stood up and fastened her robe. "You are lucky I don't have my gun, because if I did, I would likely shoot you."

  "I can see that I've taken a misstep."

  "A whole passel of them." Mae went to the sideboard, rinsed her face, and took her time drying off while she gathered her thoughts. She needed some distance from Vance because up close to her, her thoughts tended to scatter. "There are girls here who are my responsibility. If I'm gone, someone else will take my place. Someone who may not care any more for them than how much they can make in a night. Someone who may not care what's done to them if the price is right. I'll not have that on my conscience."

  "I understand."

  "Do you? I'm not sure that you really do." She took a breath and said quietly, "If not me here taking charge of things, someone else. If not Sissy and the others doing what they do here, then some other girls will come to do it. It's a part of life out here that isn't going away."

  Vance stood, shook out her trousers, and stepped into them. She left her shirt out and went to the sideboard to wash as well. When she leaned back, towel in hand, her hair still dripping, she said, "You don't want to stop doing what you do."

  "I wouldn't mind if I never had another stranger touch me," Mae said harshly. "But I have my independence, and I'm not starving, and those girls might have a chance for something more than I had."

  "All right."

  Mae frowned. "All right what?"

  "There are brothels in St. Louis run by women who live in fine houses, who ride through town, day or night, in elegant carriages, and who are welcome in the best of company."

  "That's St. Louis. I know about those places, but people out here aren't as accepting."

  Vance shrugged. "Things change."

  "That's not something you should count on."

  Vance tucked in her shirt and buttoned her trousers. "The only thing I'm counting on is you."

  With a shake of her head, Mae picked up Vance's holster and swung it around her narrow hips. "Hold still, now."

  "I did that once for you already today," Vance murmured, circling Mae's waist and pulling her tight against her body. The crush of Mae's breasts against her chest stoked the urge to touch her that had not diminished since they'd lain together. She bit lightly at Mae's earlobe before skimming the rim of her ear with her tongue. "And look what happened then."

  Mae sagged in Vance's embrace, the thunder of desire stealing her strength. "I see now what happens when you're feeling more yourself ."

  Vance laughed. "What?"

  Mae spread her palms on Vance's back, cleaving to her, knowing that her passion would fuel Vance's. When she heard Vance gasp and felt her body twitch, she stepped away, a satisfied smile on her face.

  "You get insufferably sure of yourself."

  "Should I apologize?" Vance asked, her breath coming fast as her insides twisted with want.

  "You come back one of these days--" Forcing herself to do the opposite of what her body screamed for her to do, Mae backed away.

  "And we'll see."

  "I promise you," Vance said, her eyes smoldering as she slung her coat over her shoulder and started for the door, "I intend to just as soon as I can."

  There were other things she planned to do as well--things that
for the moment, she did not intend to share.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Vance found Caleb in the midst of changing Jed's bandage.

  She hung up her coat and went to help out.

  "Morning," she said as she spooled out a thin strip of clean linen from a basin. She passed it to Caleb, who gently threaded it into the bullet tract to help facilitate drainage. She didn't expect an answer. His nod of greeting and distracted smile were enough. She leaned over to check Jed. "How are you feeling?"

  "Better than I should be, I suppose, with the two of you poking at me the way you're doing."

  Vance smiled. Jed's color was good and the wound itself showed no evidence of swelling or purulent drainage. If he went another day or so without signs of festering, he would have a very good chance of making a full recovery.

  "Am I going home today?" Jed asked.

  "I wouldn't want to be the one to stand in Jessie's way when she shows up here for you," Vance said dryly. She glanced to Caleb, who nodded. "Seems like you'll get plenty of care at home. And the food will probably be better."

  Jed laughed carefully as Caleb reapplied his bandages. "That will surely be true if Miss Kate is cooking."

  Caleb and Vance got Jed resettled and returned to the office. Caleb closed the door.

  "I can't think of a single reason why that wound isn't a stinking mess right now," Caleb said, pacing to the window and staring aimlessly into the street. "Except for all that fussing you did with the instruments and that carbolic acid."

  Vance joined him and said mildly, "Before the war, I spent six months in Europe with my father and brother visiting various medical clinics. I heard Dr. Lister speak about his theories concerning contamination as a cause for wound purulence. It seems to make sense."

  "I don't know if it makes sense or not, but if it gets results, I don't much care." Caleb frowned. "So tell me what I should be doing. Never mind the why, I don't have time for it."

  "Well," Vance said, suppressing a smile, "here's what I recommend."

  They were deep in conversation when Jessie and Kate came through the door.