Ruthless Heart

by Emma Lang

  While it was good to know Grady hadn’t left her behind, the man’s insinuation that her husband wasn’t really her husband annoyed her. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true; in truth they were traveling together as any married couple would. No doubt he thought Mr. Wolfe was a shady character beneath his regard. Eliza knew it wouldn’t behoove them to have townspeople regarding him in such a manner—it would not help him find Angeline.

  “My husband is very kind and generous.” She managed a blinding smile. “I am the world’s luckiest woman to have such a man as my mate. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for me.” She hoped she sounded convincingly enamored of him.

  “Seems a bit dark, if you don’t mind my saying.” The shopkeeper frowned.

  “He’s just a quiet man.” She held up a pair of boots. Perhaps if they spent enough, the man would change his mind. “These will be just what I need.”

  “Hope your husband has enough to pay for all this.” He took the boots and dress and walked toward the counter in the back.

  “Of course he does.” Eliza had no idea if that was true, but it had better be. She looked at the pile of goods on the counter and reviewed the content. Grady had thought of all the staples, but not everything.

  Eliza picked up a few more items and put them with the others. Grady obviously didn’t know much about cooking, so it was a good thing she did. She glanced out the window and didn’t see him. Her heart thumped hard as she realized he could have left her with a pile of goods to purchase and no funds to do so. In fact, Grady could have simply decided she was too much trouble and moved on without her.

  “I will just go and see what’s keeping my husband.” She turned, remembering at the last minute just how sore her legs were. Hopefully the shopkeeper didn’t notice how badly she limped.

  The fresh air helped her breathe a bit easier, but the empty street stole that breath away. Where was Grady?

  “I think your man has left you behind, if he was your husband at all seeing as how you don’t have a ring and all.” The cynical old man popped up at her elbow. “If’n you don’t have money to pay for those goods, I’m going to have to turn you over to the sheriff.”

  “Considering that no crime has been committed, you have no cause to file a grievance with the law.” Eliza felt her ire rising as she spoke. “For that matter, I could file my own grievance based upon your unfounded belief that my husband is untrustworthy and maligning his character.”

  “Mal-what?” He backed away, his bushy eyebrows slammed together to make a caterpillar on his forehead.

  “She just means you weren’t nice.” Another man appeared, this one sporting a shiny star on his leather vest. He was not much older than she was, with sandy blond hair and brown eyes. The kindness of his face was offset by his hand resting on the gun at his hip. “Then again, she doesn’t know you’re not nice to most folks, even if you know them.” He tipped his hat to her. “Ma’am, name’s Sheriff Brian Striker.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Striker. I’m Eliza Wolfe.” She straightened her shoulders. “I’d like to say this gentleman, and I use that term loosely, was pleasant and helpful, but that wouldn’t be true.”

  “Is that so?” The sheriff turned to the shopkeeper. “You scaring off your customers again, Abe?”

  The older man crossed his arms. “I ain’t scaring nobody about nothing. Her fella is right scary, has the look of a gunslinger to me. And they have thirty dollars’ worth of goods to pay for and he’s gone missing.”

  Thirty dollars? She had no idea the clothes and boots cost that much. That was more than she’d ever seen in her life, much less spent in one day. Grady would be furious with her, which did not bode well for her continued presence by his side.

  “My husband has every intention of paying as soon as he returns.” Eliza didn’t mention her concern over how much he would have to pay when he returned. The lump in her throat told that story.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that.” The sheriff smiled, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

  Eliza didn’t know how to react to either one of these men. They were outside of her experience, and truthfully, she hid her fear well, but she was afraid. The insular community of LDS kept her away from every type of person except the church people. The man called Abe was a bit unpleasant, and the sheriff made her nervous.

  “Would it be acceptable if I went to find him?” She was relieved to note both their horses were still tied to the hitching post.

  “Why don’t I find him for you, Mrs. Wolfe?” The sheriff had another one of his pretending to be friendly smiles. “I’d be happy to assist a lady in need.”

  Eliza tamped down her discomfort and fear. There was no need to let the man know she was out of her element. “That would be very kind of you, Mr. Striker. I will wait here with the horses.”

  The young sheriff seemed to notice the horses for the first time, perhaps lending credence to her claim that her “husband” would return and pay the grumpy Abe.

  Eliza could only hope it was sooner rather than later.

  Grady needed a drink, or two. The past few days had strained every nerve he had, and Eliza was stomping on the last one. He needed a few moments away from her, especially after having kissed her.

  Jesus, that was unexpected.

  Or not. After all, she’d turned into molten heat in his arms that morning under the blanket. He should have expected her to be just as combustible when he kissed her. The truth was, he shouldn’t have done it, but somehow since she’d gotten under his skin, he did things he normally would never do.

  Maybe he ought to leave her behind in Bellman. She’d make her way to wherever she was going. The woman had enough books to either sell, burn, or use to find her way anywhere. She didn’t need him except maybe to chase away snakes, even the two-legged kind.

  As he sipped at the rotgut, it burned as it slid down his throat. He held on to that burn and savored it. Whiskey was familiar, it was grounding, it helped him regain focus, something he really needed.

  Eliza’s presence was disconcerting to say the least. He thought to use her to find information, yet he hadn’t counted on the physical pull between them. Pull? More like a raging fire set to burn them both.

  “You looking for some fun, sugar?” The saloon girl was a redhead with corkscrew curls, tired eyes, and perky tits. Her body smelled of other men and a bit of desperation. She pushed her large breasts into his arm and gave him a clear view of them.

  Normally he would have taken a sample and perhaps bought the entire cow. They were impressive tits to be sure. She was a redhead, not exactly his type, but getting a relief from his randy state would help everyone, him first of course.

  He licked his lips at the sight of a raspberry nipple peeking out from the top of her blouse. This girl may do nicely to not only satisfy his needs, but to find information about the woman he was hunting.

  “What do you have in mind?” He ran his finger along her cleavage, pleased to see her nipples peak beneath the pink material holding them in.

  “Dollar for half an hour, whatever you want.” She reached down and cupped his balls, making his dick wake up. “For you, I’ll suck you off for free.”

  Oh, yes, she was a nice diversion for sure. “Let’s get moving then. I’ll take fifteen minutes for a dollar.”

  Her green eyes lit up. “I’m all yours.”

  They walked toward the stairs, and Grady slid his hand down her round ass. Very nice, not quite as round as Eliza, but would do in a pinch.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Joy.” She squealed as he squeezed one cheek.

  “Mm, well I hope we find some of that joy in your bed.” He hadn’t planned on fucking a saloon whore, but he wasn’t about to change his mind.

  “You know a girl named Angeline? Blond, about seventeen?” He was going to find out what he could before he didn’t have to think.

  “No, don’t think so. She work in a saloon?” Joy wiggled her ass a bit harder, likely trying to pull hi
s attention back to her.

  “Nah, not Angeline. She’s my little sister, and she’s traveling with my aunt. I figured somebody might’ve seen them.” At the top of the steps, he looked around to see only four doors, each likely leading to a room. The stairs were the only entrance and exit, giving him the lay of the land, so to speak. His time with Joy could be dangerous if he didn’t pay attention.

  “Yeah, likely that’s where she is if’n she ran away. I don’t remember her none, though.”

  Angeline Brown must’ve found a different route; otherwise Joy would have seen her. Bellman was a small enough town that most folks knew everyone else’s business.

  Of course that meant anyone had seen him with Eliza knew he had gone upstairs with Joy. Maybe even told her about it already. Jesus, he hated small towns and small minds. Damn.

  Grady pushed away the thought of Eliza waiting for him at the mercantile. She’d know he wasn’t going far—he’d left the horses there. God knew the woman could take care of herself, and he needed the escape. From her.

  Joy’s room was darkened by newspaper on the windows, and the bed was at least neatly made with a dark blue blanket. The room was surprisingly tidy with very few belongings marking it as her own.

  She turned and closed the door behind him, then smiled, revealing a few missing teeth. No matter, he wasn’t there to judge her beauty. Joy pulled him toward the bed, somehow unbuttoning and pulling off her dress as she went. A neat trick he fully appreciated.

  She was down to her knickers and a black peek-a-boo corset that shoved her nipples up for easy access. Before he could grab the pink temptations, she’d gotten to the edge of the bed and sat down. Her quick hands applied themselves to his trousers, and within seconds his dick enfolded in those hands.

  He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her fingers running up and down his staff. She cupped his balls and tickled them as she leaned down to pull the tip of his erection into her warm, wet mouth.

  “Joy,” he breathed.

  She didn’t respond, but she sucked at him, licking around the head, teasing him. Joy knew what she was doing. He leaned toward her as she pulled him deep into her mouth. Grady closed his eyes, and in his mind, he saw another woman pleasuring him.

  “Ah, Liz,” he breathed, her blue eyes shining up at him. As he reached out to touch her hair, instead of the soft dark hair he found frizzy curls.

  He pushed aside the fantasy and concentrated on the reality. Joy was giving him exactly what he needed, so why the hell was he thinking about Eliza?

  Joy leaned back and spread her legs; smiling coyly at him, she crooked her finger. “C’mon, sugar, let’s get busy.”

  Grady gritted his teeth and started to climb on top of her, until a banging started on the door.

  “Joy, you in there? I’m looking for a stranger, fella by the name of Wolfe.”

  The man’s voice made Joy’s smile fall so fast, his erection turned to ashes just as quickly. He tucked it back in his pants and was disappointed to see his fifteen minutes of distraction close her legs and reach for her dress.

  “Joy?”

  “I’m here, Sheriff. Give me a minute.” She gestured to the window and Grady nodded his thanks.

  He reached down and kissed her cheek, pressing two dollars into her hand. With a sigh, he opened the window and glanced down into the dirty alley below. Not the first time he’d escaped through the back way.

  As the door opened, Grady crawled out and hung from the sill for a moment before dropping to the ground. Somehow he missed the crates but landed directly on a pile of dog shit.

  Oh yeah, a great time was had by all. What a difference from what he wanted to be doing.

  With whom he wasn’t going to think about any longer.

  Of course the last thing he expected was a fist to come flying at him from the gloom of the alley. It connected solidly with his jaw, and then everything went black.

  Chapter Six

  “Excuse me? You’ve arrested my husband?” Eliza stared at the sheriff’s seemingly boyish face. He wore a mask on the outside, and she could only wonder what lurked beneath it.

  “He was sneaking out of the saloon without paying for his drink.” The younger man tucked his fingers into his gun belt. “He was also, ah, found leaving the saloon from a back window.”

  Eliza’s heart dropped to her feet. He was sneaking out of the saloon? What in the world would have possessed him to do something so stupid?

  “I highly doubt that my husband would have left without paying. May I speak to the person levying the charges?”

  The sheriff frowned. “Levying what?”

  “Whoever said Grady did these things.” She had to remember to use the vernacular instead of using her accustomed method of speech. People didn’t expect a woman to be book learned, and she could not afford to appear any stranger than she already did.

  “Ah, that would be Butch, the barkeep.” The sheriff took her elbow. “I can take you down there now if you like.”

  “Please do.” She didn’t like the feeling of his touch and couldn’t say why. However, she endured it, as she was trained to submit to men.

  They walked down the street with Eliza’s head held high. She maintained her dignity and the illusion that she was a concerned wife. Truthfully, she was worried about him. Grady had money, she was certain of it, and it made no sense for him not to pay for a drink of whiskey. There had to be another explanation.

  She stepped into the saloon, named the White Dog, and immediately wrinkled her nose at the memory. It smelled like the alley she’d waited in back in Tolson. At least she didn’t flinch outwardly even if her stomach clenched at the noxious memory.

  Then she spotted Grady.

  His face was bloody and purpled on the right side. He was sitting on a chair leaning his elbows on his knees. She gasped at the small puddle of blood on the floor beneath him.

  “Grady!” Eliza dropped to her knees in front of him and pressed the hem of her skirt to the open wound on his lip. “Sheriff, do you mind explaining how my husband was beaten?”

  “Well, you see, ma’am, he resisted arrest.”

  Eliza shot the sheriff a dark look. “It would appear it was more than simply resisting arrest.”

  “He broke the law, Mrs. Wolfe.”

  She saw a burly, hairy man behind the bar watching her with an intense stare. “You, sir, are you the barkeep?”

  One bushy eyebrow went up. “I sling the booze here.”

  “You are the one who told the sheriff my husband didn’t pay for his drink?” She was alarmed by Grady’s silence.

  “That’s right, ma’am. He went upstairs without paying, then jumped out the window.”

  Grady’s gaze slammed into hers, and she realized the bartender was telling the truth. Her “husband” didn’t appear apologetic, either.

  “I paid Joy.”

  The barkeep snorted, and the sheriff leaned against the bar, crossing his arms. “That so? She didn’t say a thing about that.”

  “Give me the money.” Eliza whispered to Grady.

  He frowned and reached into his shirt pocket to pull out bills, which he pressed into her hand. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Me, too.”

  She rose, conscious of the bloodstains on her tattered skirt. “We stopped in Bellman to purchase supplies, eat a meal, and rest. The people of this town must not want any money in their pockets, because we’ve been treated horribly since our arrival. Our mission is to spread the word of God and you have sullied that mission.”

  Eliza was pleased to see the sheriff’s smug look slide from his face. “What?”

  “You heard me. We are missionaries here to spread the word of God.” She pulled a small book from her pocket, a well-worn one that would be mistaken for a Bible. “We had hoped your town was not full of sinners, but it appears there is enough sin here to fill Satan’s cup.”

  The barkeep backed up and headed toward the door. “I ain’t dealing with no
preachers.”

  “You want me to believe you are here to spread the word of God, when your husband was upstairs with a whore?”

  Eliza flinched at the sheriff’s harsh words, but she knew there was only one chance to save Grady from jail. “Did they fornicate? No, they didn’t, and it was because he was testing just how far you sinners will go.” She held up the Bible. “Heal them, God, for they do not know what they do. ‘Nevertheless, as surely as I live and as surely as the glory of the Lord fills the whole earth.’”

  “Oh, hell, I’m leaving, Striker.” The burly barkeep disappeared behind a door beside the bar like a rat deserting a sinking ship.

  “I forgive you, sheriff, for your transgressions as will God. As the Bible says, ‘Let the Lord judge the peoples. Judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness, according to my integrity.’” Eliza managed a smile for him and held out the money. “We have funds to pay for everything we purchased, as you can clearly see.”

  “You two are loco.” Striker held up his hands. “You need to turn your tails west and get the hell out of my town.”

  “Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let them say among the nations, ‘The Lord reigns!’ Eliza stepped toward him, and the sheriff jumped back a foot. She bit back a smile. Who knew listening to the Bible study on Sundays would serve her well when she’d run away from it?

  “Be on your way.” Striker held the door open.

  Eliza took Grady’s arm and helped him rise. He leaned into her and whispered, “You are loco.”

  She smiled and walked toward the door with her bleeding, whore-visiting bounty hunter in tow. Just another day on the trail with Grady Wolfe.

  Grady’s head throbbed in tune with his jaw, his eye, and his knuckles. Jesus, that sheriff had fists like oak, and he was faster than hell, considering he blindsided Grady. Someone else was in the alley, too, likely that big son of a bitch behind the bar. He wanted to ride back into town and teach them a thing or two about ambushing someone.

  He should be sitting in a jail cell instead of riding away with two dozen cuts and bruises on his face. Eliza surprised him, a feat she seemed to enjoy doing every hour or so. When she pulled out the Bible and started quoting scripture, he had to clench his jaw shut to keep his mouth from falling open.