Cimarron Rose

by Nicole Foster

  “I think it looks real nice,” Becky ventured. She stood a step back from Katlyn as if expecting her to throw the brush at any moment. “It’s such a pretty color, it doesn’t matter if the curls aren’t just right.”

  “They’re far from just right, but they’ll have to do. Thank you for trying.” Katlyn pushed away from the mirror to go and get her gown from the armoire. Her satin dressing robe swished and caught around her ankles, annoying her further.

  “I can manage the dress myself tonight, Becky. I’m afraid I’m not fit company. Why don’t you go and get yourself ready?”

  “But—”

  “Please. It’s all right, really. Just leave me alone for a few minutes.”

  Katlyn turned away, not wanting Becky to see the tears welling in her eyes.

  “Well, if you say so.” Becky backed out of Katlyn’s bedroom, confused. She’d never seen Miss McLain in such a state. Sure the lady could be emotional and she always spoke her mind, but she’d never been so irritable. Becky headed for the sitting-room door, shaking her head.

  Temperamental, that was the word Sally said they used for fancy actresses and singers, wasn’t it? Maybe tonight the St. Louis Songbird decided to be temperamental. Whatever the problem was, Becky hoped it wouldn’t last. Mr. Durham’d never put up with it, no matter how much he liked her.

  The object of her thoughts surprised her on the landing outside Katlyn’s door. “Is she in?” Case asked, shifting one hand behind his back.

  Becky nodded. “Oh, she’s in, all right, Mr. Durham. But she’s, um…tempermental tonight.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, maybe I can cheer her up.”

  With a shrug Becky stepped past him. “I sure hope so. We got a full house again tonight. I don’t think it’ll be too good a show with her like this.”

  “Katlyn?” Case rapped on the half-open door, letting himself inside before she answered. “I wanted to see you.”

  “Oh, Case, wait a moment,” she called from the bedroom. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she scurried to the basin and dipped a cloth in the tepid water to dab the smeared makeup from her eyes and face.

  Wiping her cheeks before her mirror, she knew, despite her best efforts, Case would know she’d been crying. What would she say? How could she explain?

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m just—I was dressing.” She tugged the belt on her robe closer and tied it securely. With a toss of her head, she braced herself to face him.

  “Come in,” she called. “I have a few minutes before I have to be downstairs, but I need to finish my makeup first.”

  Katlyn watched in her mirror as Case strode into her bedroom. The sight of him in black formal attire never ceased to stir her. In a few lithe moves he was at her side, bending to touch a light kiss to the top of her head. “What’s wrong? Becky said you weren’t yourself.”

  Katlyn busied herself touching up her cheeks and lips. “I’m fine. I was just abrupt with her, poor girl. It wasn’t her fault.”

  “That’s not like you.” Case pulled a chair close and sat, his knees touching her thighs. “What is it, Katlyn? Please tell me.”

  Katlyn dropped her gaze from the mirror to hide her eyes from his keen appraisal. “Nothing I want to talk about right now, if you don’t mind. I have a performance to give in a few minutes.”

  “Is it your companion?” He reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, then gently tipped her face to his. “You’ve been crying. Katlyn—”

  “Case, please. It’s not important right now. I’m just…tired.”

  Case studied her face for a moment then decided to let the matter drop, for now. “I brought you something,” he said. “For luck, I suppose, although you hardly need it.” He handed her a rectangular velvet box. “Open it.”

  Tears blurred Katlyn’s vision again. “Oh, Case, I can’t.”

  Case put the box in her hands and closed his fingers over hers, imprisoning his gift there. “I insist.”

  Hesitating, Katlyn ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. Then, taking a steadying breath, she carefully lifted the lid on the box, revealing the most exquisite necklace she had ever laid eyes on. The artisan who had crafted it had bent and twined delicate strands of silver and carved gems into a chain of sapphire leaves and silver roses, each so perfectly formed they looked as if they would be warm and supple to the touch.

  Katlyn caught her breath. “Case, it’s beautiful,” she whispered. In the next instant she took his hand and put the box in it. “And it’s out of the question.”

  “I didn’t mortgage the St. Martin to buy it, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Case said with an indulgent smile. “This was my mother’s. I’ve saved it and a few other pieces since her death. This one seemed to be made for you.” He held it up to the light near her eyes. “Look,” he said, gesturing to the mirror, “tell me it’s not a perfect match for your eyes.”

  Katlyn followed his gaze to the mirror. Except, reflected there, she didn’t see the gems but the expression on Case’s face that told her more clearly than words how much he cared.

  “It is a perfect match,” Case was saying. “I knew it the first time I looked into your eyes.”

  Now tears slid down her face unchecked. “Case, I can’t. You don’t understand—”

  “No, I do understand. I understand this—”

  Setting the box aside, in one easy swoop of his arm, he pulled her atop his lap. He covered her mouth with his, tasting and tempting at first, then demanding far more when she responded eagerly.

  Emotion overwhelming all trace of reason, Katlyn never thought of resisting. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with a need laced with desperation.

  “Katlyn, I need you,” Case murmured against her neck.

  “And I need you,” she returned before their words became unnecessary, swept aside by a deep, consuming communion of desire.

  He tugged at the belt of her robe and it fell away with little coaxing. Wanting, craving his touch with an abandon she couldn’t explain, Katlyn arched back, inviting him.

  Case brushed his lips across the tempting swells of her breasts above her corset and with a little moan, she moved restlessly in his lap, nearly driving him crazy. Fumbling with the laces of her corset, he finally freed her of it and flung it aside.

  The thin cotton of her shift scarcely concealed the fullness of her breasts, taut with the evidence of her want of him.

  His hands roved, caressing her through the material until the temptation to feel her skin became too much. With trembling fingers he lifted it over her head, silencing her surprised gasp with his kiss.

  Bared to his touch, Katlyn could hardly breathe. She ached in places she never knew could feel so much, wanted him to caress her in ways she couldn’t name. She shouldn’t be here with him like this. But at this moment she couldn’t bring herself to break away.

  Why shouldn’t she, just once before she left him, know the full meaning of loving Case?

  Not content to be still, she ran her hands down the breadth of his broad back under his coat, over his firm buttocks and down his hard thighs. His clothes suddenly became an irritating barrier to everything she craved, the feel of skin to skin, passion to passion.

  With one hand, Case pressed her to him, the other skimmed up her bare thigh, beneath her drawers, teasing close to the most intimate part of her. Katlyn nearly begged him to go further.

  “Case, please…I need you.”

  “My sweet Katlyn,” he whispered. Forgetting where they were, that they had a hotel full of guests waiting for the St. Louis Songbird, Case shifted to pick Katlyn up in his arms and carry her to the bed.

  “Miss McLain! It’s gettin’ late!”

  Becky’s call jolted him back to reality. Case inwardly groaned at her timing. He looked at Katlyn, seeing her eyes smoky with passion, her hair tousled, her skin flushed from his touch, and he nearly said to hell with it and told Becky the guests would have to
wait.

  Instead, Case lifted her from his lap and back onto her chair. Handing her the discarded robe, he went to fend off Becky while Katlyn wrapped the satin around her and tried to smooth her hair with an unsteady hand.

  Becky gave him an odd look when he closed Katlyn’s bedroom door behind him but she was too flustered to say anything. “I’m sorry, Mr. Durham, but everyone’s waitin’ on Miss McLain. It’s gettin’ late and the crowd’s mighty restless.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Becky. Tell Jack to say Miss McLain will be down in a few minutes. He can entertain them while they’re waiting for her. And have Bat offer them a round of free drinks for their patience.”

  When he went back into the bedroom after sending Becky off, he found Katlyn in her shift and corset, pulling on a deep blue satin dress. “Thank you,” she said, giving him a grateful smile.

  “It’s the least I can do, since I’m responsible for the delay of the show.”

  “You’ll have to share the blame, Mr. Durham. I don’t recall you being alone here.”

  “No.” Coming over to her, he slid his fingers down her bare arm, making her shiver. “Definitely not.” Before either of them could consider temptation’s offer, Case went to the dressing table and picked up the necklace from its cushioned box. “You will wear this, won’t you?”

  Katlyn turned and indicated her dress, her cheeks flushed with anticipation. “That’s why I’ve chosen this dress.”

  “Then please allow me the pleasure of placing this around your beautiful neck,” he said, turning her around.

  He clasped the silver chain and turned her back to face him again. With a satisfied smile he said, “I can’t decide what has more fire. The sapphires or your eyes.”

  “It must be my eyes. Because they hold a reflection of you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jack plucked his whiskey glass from the top of the piano and saluted Katlyn as she accepted the last accolades from the audience. “Here’s to another rousing success,” he said with a wink.

  Katlyn smiled and motioned the audience’s attention his way. “A round of applause for my piano player,” she asked, leading the clapping herself.

  Jack downed his whiskey in a single drink and returned the audience’s praise with a jaunty, deep bow, a sun-splashed wave of overlong hair falling over one eye as he did.

  Laughter and more applause followed, gradually dying down to a pleasant hum of conversation among the guests in the crowded dining room. Rising at their leisure from their tables, appetites well sated with Tuck’s cooking, minds mellowed with Case’s choices in fine wines, they mingled with one another, satisfied with the evening.

  Katlyn stepped down from the stage, thanked Jack and tried to slip to the side door that led to the saloon, which was still closed while Bat and Case worked at the restoration. As usual, her attempt at an early escape was quickly thwarted. A friendly couple she recognized from the rodeo caught up with her, hands extended, faces beaming.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Erickson, how nice to see you here,” she said, putting on her best smile when they approached.

  Richard Erickson, sixtyish, distinguished but ruggedly handsome, self-made, and now a man of great means and prominence in the territory, bent to lift her fingers to his lips. “Why, I’m only here to protect my investment, ma’am,” he said with a sly grin.

  The attractive woman at his side slapped his arm playfully. “Now, Miss Rose, don’t you pay him any heed. He came to hear you for the same reason we all did. You’re the best show in town.”

  Katlyn laughed lightly. “Thank you, but from what I’m told, I’m also the only show in town unless you fancy the entertainment at the Crooked Pony.”

  Looking a bit flustered, Mrs. Erickson fidgeted with her ruby-and-diamond wedding ring. “You must know we all simply love your singing. Especially those sad Irish tunes. And this hotel has never served finer food or looked so elegant.” She leaned in closer to Katlyn. Her sharp eyes narrowed with curiosity. “Something tells me you had a say-so in the new decor.”

  “Indeed she did,” the familiar resonance of Case’s deep, velvety voice sounded close behind Katlyn, sending a warm thrill through her. “Miss Rose is not only our resident songbird, she is also our resident decorator and culinary advisor.”

  “My, my, your talents do have a wide range,” Mr. Erickson said, the hint of suggestiveness in his voice earning him a tight-lipped grimace from his wife.

  “Oh, don’t embarrass yourself, Richard. Miss Rose is young enough to be your granddaughter.”

  Undeterred, the older gentleman continued to smile at Katlyn, shamelessly appreciative of her beauty.

  Taking a step nearer to Katlyn, Case rested his hand at her waist. Mrs. Erickson glanced at Case, speculation in her eyes over the possessive gesture.

  Case only smiled. Let the woman think what she wanted. He didn’t worry Richard Erickson would take his admiration of Katlyn any further than looking, but he also felt compelled to make it clear anything beyond admiration from any other man in the room was unwelcome.

  Katlyn smiled to herself, a little amused by Case’s determination to stake his claim. If he only knew she had no desire to look anywhere but in his eyes.

  A few more guests joined the little group and Case and Katlyn chatted with them a few minutes, accepting their praises for the show and the hotel renovation.

  “My wife and I are staying the night, too,” a young man with sleek black hair, wearing a finely tailored suit volunteered. “Janie doesn’t want to ride all the way back to the ranch this time of night.”

  Twisting her hands nervously, a pretty little woman at his side nodded. “If the Indians don’t get you out there, the banditos will. I told Gavin I’d only come tonight if we stayed safe and sound under this roof until daylight. Oh, and we’ve booked a room for my mother, too.”

  She wrapped her arm protectively around the small elderly woman next to her. “Your young man at the front desk assured us you have two adjoining rooms on the first floor so Mother won’t have to climb the stairs. And I need to be able to hear if she calls in the night.”

  Though Katlyn quickly decided Janie was the nervous sort, the young woman’s devotion reminded her of her own situation. From the beginning, she’d been uncomfortable with the promise she’d made to Penelope. But was her mother asking so much that Katlyn not take her dignity by revealing her illness?

  It sounded so simple put that way, yet Katlyn knew it was so much more complicated.

  “Miss Rose?” A tap on her arm brought her back from her musings. “I’m trying to find out where you came by that exquisite necklace. Do you mind?” Mrs. Erickson bent close to examine the sapphires in the necklace Case had given her. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Katlyn glanced to Case and he smiled.

  She steeled herself, knowing his expression would quickly change. “Actually, it belongs to Mr. Durham. It was his mother’s and he was gracious enough to lend it to me tonight.”

  Katlyn didn’t have to look at Case to see the coldness settling over his face. She could feel the chill from him as if winter had suddenly blown in through the windows. He was insulted by her rejection of his generosity. But she absolutely would not accept such a priceless gift knowing that soon she’d be leaving him.

  “Yes, Miss Rose has difficulty accepting her due,” Case said.

  Quickly looking up, Katlyn caught his eye and they looked at each other, cool challenge in his gaze meeting stubborn defiance in hers.

  “I know what belongs to me, Mr. Durham.”

  “You know, Miss Rose, I don’t think you do. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said to his guests. “My bartender is trying to catch my attention. Enjoy the rest of your evening, please.”

  Then, without so much as a backward glance, he was gone.

  Somewhere in the middle of the night an icy wind came from nowhere, stealing under Katlyn’s quilt. She curled up, reaching blindly through the darkness and what had been a deep sleep,
for the bedcovers. How could her window be open?

  The cold swept over her and Katlyn awoke with a start, shivering. She grabbed all the bedding she could and buried herself under it, trying to warm away the chill that seemed to have settled in her bones.

  “Wretched drafty hotel,” she muttered.

  She punched at her pillow and was just about to settle down to sleep again when mingled sounds of laughter intruded into the stillness of her room.

  Who would be up at this hour? As far as she knew, the guests this time were all respectable families and couples. Katlyn shivered again, but this time from a strange feeling that crawled over her.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” she told herself.

  The laughter grew louder, a woman’s voice more raucous. She heard the rustling of cards and the slide of poker chips across a table.

  “I should know better than to drink coffee before bed.” She spoke out loud to the darkness, hoping to dispel the odd dreamlike quality hanging over it.

  “Straight flush! I win again. Better luck next time, cowboy!”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, woman, my luck’s about to change. Now git on over here.”

  Katlyn sat bolt upright, straining in the dark to see something, anything.

  As surely as if she were in the saloon, standing next to Jack as he played out a winning hand, she heard the flip of cards, the scrape of dozens of chips across a table, then a burst of loud playful laughter, a swish of petticoats and the stomp of heavy boots in rapid pursuit.

  The sounds slowly faded somewhere in the black distance, only a waft of whiskey and cheap perfume lingering like a whisper in the air.

  With the silence, the room seemed warmer, the darkness less impenetrable.

  It was a dream, Katlyn said to herself, brought on by too many tense hours, too much worry, and too many stories of Rattlesnake Cooper and his hauntings.

  She’d nearly convinced herself when the sound of doors opening and raised voices completely eliminated any vestiges of a dream.