by Caroline Lee
“G’night.”
“Goodnight, Wendy.”
She didn’t remember Serena leaving the room; the pillows were soft enough to call her into slumber immediately.
She dreamed of Nate. And home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Hello there, stranger.”
He managed to hide his wince. He’d known that by coming to The Eden tonight he would run into Eve. This was her place, after all. But right now, he didn’t need any company… just wanted to be left alone to nurse this glass of whiskey.
But she was an old friend, and didn’t deserve his sulk. He shifted slightly, and lifted the glass in a small salute. “Hello, Eve.”
All prostitutes wore cosmetics, in Nate’s experience, but Eve somehow managed to still look like someone’s older sister, clean and approachable. Not that he had much interest in approaching her tonight, but he tried not to let that show.
He wasn’t sure how well that had worked, when her black-rimmed eyes went wide and her pink lips lifted and one be-ringed hand flew to her breast in theatrical shock. “Why, it’s Nate Barker!” He rolled his eyes, knowing it was the reaction she wanted. “I hardly recognized you, honey, looking all dandified, your hair all trimmed up!”
She reached out to touch his head, probably to rumple his hair or something similar, but Nate jerked out of the way. “Now sugar, don’t be sore.” He remembered when he liked Eve’s ability to sound scolding and tempting all at once. “I’m just wondering what’s happened to my little savage.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Ah.” She sat down on the stool beside him at the bar. There was the ubiquitous large mirror in front of them, decorated with surprising taste for the season; garland and red ribbons adorned most of the saloon, and there was even a large tree in the corner, mixing the scent of evergreen with whiskey and sex. Nate watched her reflection gesture to the bartender. “You’re getting drunk again, aren’t you?” She held up a glass in Jose’s direction.
“Nope. Just don’t like that name.”
As the bartender poured some of the amber whiskey into her glass, she asked, “Jose, how many has my friend here had?”
The older man smiled, revealing two missing teeth in the front of his mouth. “Just the one, Miss Eve.”
“Hmmmm.” She dismissed Jose with a nod, and he went back to the other end of the long plank, where two regulars—even the Christmas season wasn’t going to keep them out of the bar—were swapping jokes and stories.
“So, Nate. Not getting drunk, I guess. Just ornery?”
He sighed, knowing he shouldn’t take his bad mood out on her. “Yeah. Sorry.” Another sip of the whiskey, and he winced at the taste. It wasn’t what he needed now, and he knew it. He needed a different taste, a taste that had consumed his thoughts for years, and now that he’d finally had it, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Wendy’s lips tasted better than anything he could have imagined.
“You wanna talk about it, honey?”
“Nope.”
She laughed that false laugh of hers and knocked his shoulder with hers. “Tough, sugar. I want to hear all about St. Louis. Did you find her?”
He couldn’t keep the surprise from his face. “How’d you know where I went?”
“Men talk, Nate, and I’m a good… listener.”
Who’d known that he was leaving? “Not Ash.”
“I’ve met your brother once, and he didn’t say two words to me. I guess not all men talk.”
“Or Sebastian. Or Cam.”
“No, they’re happily married… and no, I’m not going to tell you.” His eyes narrowed, and she laughed again. “And don’t bother trying to guess. It really shouldn’t matter to you what Brixley does with his time off—Oh no, now I’ve given it away.”
Her mischievous grin was so unrepentant that Nate’s lips curled, and a chuckle slipped out. “Fine, okay. Yes, I went to St. Louis.”
“To find Wendy?”
He wasn’t quite willing to share everything about Wendy, not with Eve. So his “Yeah” was hesitant.
“You found her?”
“Yeah.”
“Well? Did you talk? Why’s she been ignoring your letters? Is she going to come back here? Are you going back there? Don’t leave me guessing, honey!”
Too many questions that he didn’t have answers to. “We talked.”
“And?” Her exasperation was obvious.
“And I don’t know anything more than when I left.”
She was quiet then, fiddling with her glass of whiskey. Finally, she took a deep breath, and he remembered her telling him he was too heart-sick to give her what he wanted. After a few heartbeats, she asked quietly, “Did you tell her that you love her?”
“No.” At his whisper, she let out a breath he hadn’t known she’d been holding.
“Well, why not? Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting for? You can’t just pine here in Cheyenne with her out there, not knowing how you feel, sugar. You’re too good for that.” She took another deep breath, and then turned on him resolutely, as if she’d made up her mind. One painted fingernail under his chin turned him to face her. “She needs to know, Nate. So you can let her go, if she doesn’t love you back. I can’t stand the thought of you wasted like this. You need to move on.”
“I can’t, Eve.”
He hadn’t meant for his whisper to sound so pitiful, but her expression crumbled. Her “Oh, sugar” as she pulled him into a hug made him feel like a little boy again. “Tell me, Nate.”
So he did. He told his old friend about the journey, about finding Wendy and the bigotry of her employers. About their time together and how happy it had made them both. About how Steven had insulted her—although he hadn’t told Eve how he’d insulted her—and how he hadn’t been able to control his rage. “I acted like a, a barbarian. Now she knows who I really am. If you’d seen her, looking like a perfect city lady, Eve, you’d know there’s no place for someone like me—a real savage—in her life.”
Her ‘hmmmm’ was non-committal. “Did you do anything to tell her or show her how you feel?”
“I kissed her.”
Slowly, she turned a smile on him that was big and bright enough to almost block out the faint look of loss in her eyes. “Did you now? And did she return it? Was it everything you’d hoped it would be?”
“Yeah.” His slow drawl was answer to both questions.
“I’m glad, Nate. After Christmas you need to go back out and kiss her again. And again, until you know how she feels about you. Until you know if you can be happy with her.”
“I know I’d be happy with her, Eve. It’s her being happy with me. I don’t deserve someone like her.”
“Oh, shut up. You know I don’t think that’s true. And if she’s half the woman you believe her to be, she doesn’t think that’s true either. So go back to St. Louis—”
“She’s here. She lost her job when I acted so… stupidly.” Eve smiled slightly and nodded in agreement. “Which I regret, because she’s still livid at me. But at least she’s back home, even if it’s just for the holiday.”
“Seems to me that you’ve been given another chance, honey.”
Staring down at the whiskey in his glass, Nate wasn’t sure what he’d do with another chance. “Not sure I won’t screw this one up too.”
Her real chuckle was deep and raspy, which is why he so rarely heard it. This time it surprised him. “Yeah, you haven’t done so well so far.”
Looking up, he met her eyes in the big mirror. “What do I do, Eve?”
She placed one hand atop his, and lightly stroked it. “Do you love her? Do you want her?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell her. Tell her that you can’t be happy without her. Tell her all of the millions of stupid things women want to hear, about how you can’t live without her and how badly you want to hold her. And then make sure that she’s in love with you, too.”
The thought terrified and excit
ed him. “She’s keeping a secret. Something big. She won’t tell me if she loves me, Eve, because she won’t even tell me why she stopped writing to me. She won’t tell me why she cut me—tried to cut everyone—out of her life. She’s not going to suddenly open up if I tell her that I love her.”
Eve shrugged. “Maybe she will. It’s a powerful incentive to a lot of women.” There was just enough scorn in her voice to know that he’d hit a chord.
“But not you?”
“I don’t need that sort of complication, darling.” Then she lifted one cool hand to his cheek, and he remembered all of the comfort and temporary happiness this ‘friend’ of his had brought him over the years. “But you do. And you deserve it. And if she’s smart she’ll see that.”
He didn’t have a response, but just reached up to hold her hand, turning it over to kiss the backs of her fingers. She blushed slightly, and pulled it away as she stood, suddenly all business. “Don’t be all mushy with me, Nate Barker. I’m not the one you need to impress!” He smiled at her tone. “And don’t be laughing at me, either.”
“I would never, Eve.”
Eyes narrowed, she looked him over. “Well, you’re not drunk, but I’m guessing you’re not staying with her tonight?” He shook his head. “And I can assume that you’re not interested in female company—other female company?” He raised a brow and shook his head again. “I didn’t think so. Well, Ruth’s gone to visit her sister, so you can sleep in her room tonight, if you’ve a mind.”
It was unnecessarily kind. “Thanks, Eve.”
“That’s what friends are for, sugar.”
He toasted her slightly. “And thank you for the advice. And the company.”
“Sometimes you need a lady friend, even if that lady is a whore, to give you advice.”
“Sometimes a whore is the best kind of lady friend, when it comes to advice.”
She burst into laughter, and he smiled to hear that it wasn’t her fake kind. “Saints be praised, Nate Barker, you finally understand whores! Now,” she gave him a mock glare, “drink your whiskey and see if you can understand ladies. And when you’ve decided how you’re going to convince Wendy to love you, make sure you know how to keep her. She’s the keeping kind of lady, honey, unlike my girls.”
“That she is.”
“So you put a ring on her finger, and you make her happy.” Nate swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. Marry Wendy? “And make sure that she makes you happy, because if she doesn’t, she’ll have to answer to me.”
With one last grin, she sauntered away, taking those little steps guaranteed to make a man notice the sway of her skirts against her bottom. But Nate didn’t notice. In fact, since her arrival, he hadn’t noticed anything enticing about her. He hadn’t had any desire to kiss her, or to feel her hands on his skin, or to lie on her satin sheets. He hadn’t wanted her.
Kissing Wendy had spoiled him for other women. She’d spoiled him for loving other women years ago, sure, but now that he’d tasted her, he didn’t want anything else. He was like an addict; he’d gladly starve for one more taste of her lips.
Marry Wendy? Why not? Why had it never occurred to him that marriage was the obvious end to this journey he’d set himself on? If she loved him—and the way she responded to him told him that she sure as hell felt something for him, even if she was still angry—then he could marry her and live the Happily Ever After that she didn’t believe existed. She’d been a part of his life for so long, first at the ranch, and then on his mind constantly, that he’d just always pictured them together. It hadn’t occurred to him that meant marriage.
And suddenly, he knew. He’d be the happiest man alive if she’d marry him. Things couldn’t go back to how they used to be, and he knew it… they’d be better. Together.
He wryly toasted his silent reflection. It was all well and good to make plans, but one thing he’d learned is that Wendy had a way of messing up his plans… of having her own plans. Her plans apparently involved being mad at him forever, but he figured he could talk her out of her snit… or maybe kiss her out of it. He grinned and threw back the rest of the whiskey. And then he’d talk her into marrying him.
A harsh chuckle forced itself from between his lips. After all…‘twas the season for miracles.
Wendy woke late on Christmas Eve morning. After all, she’d been traveling for days, and needed to catch up on her rest. Shortly after she started moving around, there was a knock at the door, and Sarah—the maid—came in with a tray of breakfast. Wendy thanked the girl, who curtsied and left and made Wendy feel a bit like a class traitor. She was so distracted that she ate breakfast without tasting it, and only then saw the little envelope beside the teapot, addressed to her in Serena’s loopy handwriting.
Wendy dear,
I have to be out and about this morning, and Annie is with me. We are stopping by Sebastian’s school, and then the library for the annual fund drive. We will all be back by luncheon. Nate is coming, remember.
So rest up!
–Serena
Wendy scowled, not sure what that last line meant. Did Serena think she needed all of her energy to deal with Nate? Or was her friend just concerned with her health, after her travels?
Happy to have the time to relax and write a bit, Wendy settled down at the small desk in front of the window. The view was beautiful, overlooking snow-covered Millionaire’s Row and the well-dressed people hurrying about their business on Christmas Eve. She sighed deeply, allowing the beauty of the season to seep into her, pushing out the anxiety and bitterness that had clumped in her stomach and shoulders over the last week.
Had it really only been ten days since Nate had sauntered back into her life, throwing things all out of order? Since his smile had reminded her of what she’d lost? Since his kiss had opened up impossible dreams for the future?
But she was home now, or nearly home, and her best friend and little sister had welcomed her with open and loving arms. They hadn’t pushed her for explanations about her actions of the last year, although she knew that her stilted letters had to have confused and hurt them.
Maybe coming home was easier than she’d thought. Maybe she wouldn’t have to face her demons and explain why she was a lesser person now than she was when she’d left. Maybe she wouldn’t have to share her secret and see her loved ones’ regard for her fade.
The idea of seeing Molly again filled her with the same vague sense of dread it had yesterday, but for the first time in a long while, Wendy was slightly optimistic about her future. And, if she was honest with herself, she owed it to Nate. His inability to let her go, to come all the way to St. Louis and find her, led her to this moment. His actions forced her to leave St. Louis, and confront her past. She was still angry with him, but somewhere between hearing Annie speak for the first time and waking up this morning, Wendy had completely forgiven him.
She was home for Christmas again, and she owed that to Nate.
And so she wasn’t quite sure why she was smiling slightly as she pulled her journal over and opened it to the most recent page of her Hero story, but she found that she didn’t mind. Bending over her pencil, she lost herself in her characters for most of the morning.
His stare was deep and compelling, forcing her to remember that Kiss almost against her will. Her pulse began to pound against her temples, and she felt dizzy. Would he kiss her again? Would it evoke the same heat, the same longing?
“Oh my dear, my precious one. I have loved you for years beyond counting. I know not when I first looked into your lovely eyes and fell, seeing the real you, but it was soon after we met. You ceased to be merely a friend, and became the woman I would marry.”
Her breath caught when he grabbed her hands, and then exploded out of her in a sound that was half-sob and half-laugh. How had he known? How had he known her exact feeling? “Oh! I have loved you for just as long! Longer, even. From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the most wonderful man in the world!”
Crushing her to his
wide chest, his voice rumbling against her ear, he whispered, “Marry me, my love. Stand by my side forever.”
Wendy smiled wryly and put down the pencil. Removing her spectacles, she rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed. The beauty of being a writer was that she could create scenarios completely removed from reality. Her Hero and Heroine might love one another, but she had only Serena’s claim that Nate loved her, since he’d never said anything outright to her. Her story and real life had diverged. Marriage wasn’t in the future for Nate and her… he’d never indicated that he had any interest. They were friends, and deep friendship often seemed like love.
But in the back of her mind was a little voice telling her that “friends” didn’t kiss each other the way Nate had kissed her, and didn’t make her feel the way he did.
Nate’s kisses were… special. Magical? When she was in his arms, she felt complete. She felt like he made her whole again. No other kiss—no other experience in her years since she left Cheyenne—had made her feel that way. Nothing else had ever felt so right.
Steven’s kisses had made her feel hot and excited, and desirable. That had been important to the girl she’d been; the girl who’d spent two years in the big city, staring wide-eyed at the decadence around her. He’d swept in, debonair and smooth, and she’d been desperate for a friend. But he’d wanted more than friendship, and it hadn’t taken long for his smiles and teasing to turn to kisses and caresses. And she’d been completely enthralled by the way he made her feel, the way her body responded to him.
It hadn’t taken long for him to invite himself into her bed. She’d been shocked at first, but he’d made her feel so good, and her objections had thawed in the heat of his onslaughts. She’d welcomed him into her arms and bed and had been overwhelmed by his passion.
After all, he was the perfect gentleman, and the perfect match for a young lady like her. She had been sure that a marriage proposal would be forthcoming.