Bound for Temptation

by Tess LeSue

  “Amen,” Calla said.

  “What’s the plan now?” Anna asked as they followed Emma back out to the street.

  “What makes you think I have a plan?” Emma grinned as she swung up into the saddle. She pushed her hat back at a rakish angle.

  “Honey, you always have a plan.”

  Emma laughed. Yes, she did. And this plan was a great one. She was going to make sure nothing stood between her and Tom Slater. And that meant conquering his family, one by one.

  * * *

  • • •

  MATT SLATER WAS the first to see the place. He swore and stopped dead in the street. The twins were right behind him and went barreling into him at full speed.

  “What in hell?” Phin complained. “You almost made me drop my new slingshot slugs.”

  “Hush up.” Matt didn’t want to hear another word about those damn slingshot slugs. Especially since he’d be hearing enough about it from Georgiana when he got home.

  “What are you gawking at?” Flip followed his gaze. “Oh.”

  It was Harlan’s old place. He’d packed up and headed for the goldfields, like half a dozen other fools around here. Someone had painted Harlan’s place pale pink, with bright white trim. There were pink velvet curtains visible at the windows, and white wrought iron furniture on the porch. There was a woman in a broad-brimmed hat planting rosebushes in the newly dug garden beds out front. Matt bet they were pink roses. The owner of this place sure had a liking for pink.

  What made Matt swear wasn’t the pink paint or the white furniture or the woman planting bushes. What made him swear was the sign being hammered up on the shop. Dell Pritchard was up on the roof, pounding in the last nails. Blazing white letters spelled out a name Matt knew all too well.

  “Seline?”

  The woman planting roses turned and squinted up at him.

  Goddamn it. It was.

  “Seline!” The twins all but bounced over to her.

  “Nope. It’s Emma.” She looked them up and down. “Ain’t you grown since I saw you last! You’ll be taller than me in the blink of an eye.”

  “Hey, Seline, you got any of your pies about?” Phin craned his neck to check the white tables lined up along the porch.

  “Emma,” she corrected again. “And no, I don’t. But I do have some fruit buns fresh out of the oven. Run along inside and tell Anna I said you could have one each.”

  “Just one?”

  “Yes, just one, you greedy scamp.” She stood up and dusted the dirt off her hands. “You push your luck like that again, and I’ll make you share one between the two of you.”

  They bolted for the door before she could change her mind.

  Hell, Matt thought. Georgiana would tar and feather him for this one. She’d always disapproved of the whore. “The sign up there says ‘Seline’s,’” he pointed out dryly. “Not ‘Emma’s.’”

  “Well, that old whore paid for the place, so I figured the least I could do was name it after her.”

  Matt laughed. Then sobered up when he saw Mrs. McCauley spying from the front porch of the general store. “You know, I’m not sure there’s much trade for a whorehouse in these parts,” he advised quietly. “This is mostly a family place. Settlers and the like.”

  “Good thing this ain’t a whorehouse, then,” she said cheerfully.

  “It ain’t?” Matt sounded dubious as he regarded the pale pink exterior.

  “Nope. It’s a pâtisserie. Well, a bakery. But pâtisserie has a nicer ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “Why’s it all pink like that if it ain’t a whorehouse?” He squinted. “And how come you got those fancy curtains?”

  “I like pink. And pâtisseries are fancy places, Matt Slater. I got some coffee on. Want to come in and see? You can have a whole fruit bun to yourself. I won’t make you share.”

  Matt laughed. He’d always liked Seline.

  “How’s your brother?” she asked as she led him inside.

  “Which one?”

  She gave him a look.

  “You mean Luke, I guess.” She’d not met Tom. Besides, women always asked after Luke. And Seline and Luke had a history. Wait until he told his brother Seline was here. He almost grinned. He was going to be in so much trouble at home. Matt liked it when his bossy older brother got in trouble.

  Matt wasn’t sure where to sit in this place. He felt a bit like a bull in a china shop. It was a fine-looking place, and it smelled like heaven, but it wasn’t for the likes of him. There were two rooms across the front of the store, one set up with tables and chairs, the other set up like a lounge room. Inside, it wasn’t quite so pink. The walls were freshly painted white, and there were white lace tablecloths. The armchairs and lounges were sage green velvet or dark leather. There were woodburning stoves in the fireplaces, pots of ferns and flowers scattered about, and brass lamp fittings. It was fancier than anywhere else in Utopia. He considered one of the dainty chairs and grimaced. He reckoned he’d break the chairs and get the velvet dirty. Seline . . . uh . . . Emma watched him for a minute, looking amused, and then she rolled her eyes.

  “Come through to the kitchen,” she suggested.

  Gratefully, he followed. He noticed the wood-paneled counter and rows of empty shelves and display tables. “How much pastry are you planning on selling?”

  “Depends how much your boys leave me,” she said wryly, as they entered the big, sunny kitchen at the back of the house to find the twins with a bun in each hand.

  “She said we could!” Phin said defensively, gesturing to Anna. His cheeks were stuffed with pastry.

  Matt stayed for a good hour. He had two cups of coffee and more than half a dozen buns. When he left, he took a bagful with him.

  He didn’t know it, but he’d given Emma the best start to her plan she could have hoped for.

  * * *

  • • •

  MATT MUST HAVE told Luke she was in town, because the next day, he came ambling along, looking as ginger as an old tomcat. She’d half expected it and had dressed for the occasion. She wore her teal blue gown and topped it off with her peacock feather headdress. Her hair was still short, but the headdress helped disguise it. The getup made her feel better. Like wearing a trusty old suit of armor. Emma’s heart was thumping fit to jump out of her chest as she watched him amble up. She hadn’t seen him in years, and she remembered keenly what she’d used to feel for him.

  He was the same old Luke. Tall, dark and handsome. But not as handsome as his brother, she saw as he got closer. He was too solid. Too glib. He lacked Tom’s intensity and Tom’s stillness. His eyes were the wrong color. They were midnight black, with none of the nerve-tingling beauty of Tom’s river-ice green eyes. His mouth was all wrong too. It didn’t have that thin top lip, with its sharp Cupid’s bow, or the plump lower lip that always looked boyishly pouty. He didn’t have Tom’s shyness, or his mix of puzzlement and wonder. And, to be blunt, there was nothing even remotely poetic about Luke Slater.

  Emma was thrilled to realize that she didn’t feel the slightest trace of her old feelings for him. Not one little spark. She was so thrilled she beamed from ear to ear. She hadn’t realized how anxious she’d been about it.

  “Why, look who the cat dragged in,” she said happily. “If it ain’t Luke Slater!” She could breathe easy now, she thought, as she put her hands on her hips and sized him up. “You look real good.”

  But not as good as your little brother. Not even close.

  “Howdy, Seline,” he said. He looked as uncomfortable as all hell. “I won’t come in.” He took his hat off.

  “You sure? I got coffee on.”

  “My wife would skin me alive if I took you up on that.” He gave a quick grin, and she saw a flash of his old charm. “She ain’t happy to see you’ve set up in Utopia.”

  Emma frowned. “You told her a
bout our history? That was dumb.” Why would he do that? Had she meant more to him than she’d realized? Her stomach dropped. Why else would he tell his wife? Oh God, she hoped he didn’t have feelings for her. The thought made her feel ill. She didn’t fancy having that conversation.

  “She saw us in Independence. You saw her too.”

  Emma frowned. Who exactly had he married?

  Luke waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a long story, and it’s not what I came to say.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve come to ask you to leave, Seline.”

  Of course he had. Emma flushed. How stupid could she be, thinking he’d had feelings for her? A whore. She was thicker than clotted cream. Her chin went up. “It’s Emma,” she said stiffly. Remember the plan, she counseled herself. You expected this. Stick with the plan.

  He glanced at the sign but nodded. “Emma. Look, I’m happy to cover the costs.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “For you to relocate. I’ll pay whatever you need.”

  He wanted to pay her to leave? That really got her riled, but she kept her composure. “I don’t want to relocate,” she said.

  “You can’t stay.”

  She pursed her lips. “And why not?”

  “My wife . . .”

  “Did you tell your wife you were a virgin when she married you?” Emma asked bluntly.

  “Well, no.”

  “Did she think for a second you were?”

  “No,” he said stiffly.

  “Have you got any plans to renew our relationship?” Which would happen when hell froze over, but she wasn’t going to deign to tell him that.

  “No!”

  The horror on his face made her feel ill again. She forced down the old feelings of shame. She remembered Calla sitting on the bed down in Magdalena, her hopes all stomped on. Well, Calla had nothing to be ashamed of, and neither did she. And she’d be damned if she’d let anyone make her feel otherwise.

  “Well, honey, if she knew you weren’t a virgin, and you got no interest in me now,” she drawled, “I don’t see what the problem is.” She crossed her arms. “This seems like a matter between you and your wife. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me out of it.”

  He flushed. “I mean it, Seline.”

  “You mean what? You want to buy me off? You want to bully me out of town because your wife doesn’t like the fact you dipped your wick before you married her? You go home and tell her I’m retired. You hear me? I don’t take money from men like you anymore. And, honey, I wouldn’t sleep with you without payment if you were the last man on earth.”

  That was mean. But it sure felt good to say.

  Luke blanched.

  Emma sighed. “Ah, hell, why’d you have to go and prick my temper? You know I’ve got a bad temper.” She wanted to stay mad at him, she really did. But Luke had been good to her. He’d been kind when she’d needed some kindness in her life. He was acting like a fool right now, but she didn’t have to be mean about it. And she needed Tom’s family to accept her. Tom would need it.

  “You were nice to me back in Independence, Luke,” she said. She descended the porch stairs and stood in front of him. “It meant an awful lot to me. And I thank you for it. But you were an equal partner in our past, and you got no right punishing me for it. You’re the one who paid me for sex, not the other way round. I ain’t here to chase you or any of these other men. Go tell your wife that. I got no interest in you, Luke. And you got no interest in me. People have pasts, and they shouldn’t be punished for them.”

  “I ain’t meaning to punish you,” he sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. He was clearly wrestling with thoughts.

  “Congratulations on getting married, by the way,” she said, giving him a nudge. “Who’d have thought it? Luke Slater married. She must be quite a woman.”

  “She is.”

  Emma didn’t feel the slightest bit of jealousy. “I’m happy for you,” she said. And she meant it.

  He nodded. “Thank you.” His old gentleness was back, that sweetness that had been a shaft of sunlight in her life. “You look good, Seline.”

  “Emma,” she corrected. “My name’s Emma.”

  “Emma.” He shook his head. “This is going to make my life a pure misery.”

  “I’m right sorry about that. But you can’t change what you did before you met her.”

  “You sure I can’t convince you to leave?”

  “No. I got my heart set on this place.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “You can, but I ain’t going to answer. Not today.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve gone and got yourself married too? Because that sure would help my case.”

  She laughed. “Not yet. But give me time.”

  “I can’t say I’m thrilled about it . . .” He held out his hand. “But I guess this is welcome to town.”

  “Thanks.” She shook his hand. “You want to buy some pastry?”

  He grimaced. “You trying to sign my death warrant? I can’t be taking your pastry home. I can’t be visiting you again either.”

  She laughed as she watched him leave. Over the way, she saw a clump of women standing and gawking at them. She waved gaily, and they turned away. She bet Luke’s wife would be getting a string of visitors in the next little while. Emma bet Mrs. Luke would get her dander up about today. With any luck, she’d come to hash it out with Emma, and then Emma could get to work on her too.

  It would take time, but she had time. It was only spring.

  31

  THE PEOPLE OF Utopia weren’t keen to let a lady move on from her past. Summer passed and fall fell. The leaves started to turn, and in the mornings, there was frost on the windowpanes. Emma wanted Winnie in school and marched her on down to the schoolhouse behind the church, counseling her to keep her head high as people stared. Calla had come along on the off chance of seeing the preacher, who had pricked her interest. Between them, they jollied Winnie along. Emma hadn’t let Anna come; she kept weeping about Winnie going off to school. It just made the kid nervy. There was a new schoolteacher in town, a girl who didn’t look old enough to be out of pinafores, but she was sweet enough, and while she blushed when she spoke to Emma and could barely meet her eye, she was kind to Winnie. And that was really all that mattered.

  The children themselves sure as hell weren’t always kind, and neither were their parents.

  “You sure you don’t want to find another town?” Anna sighed one night, as they sat upstairs after another fallow day. The four of them lived above the store, in two rooms they’d cozied up into a fine little home. “These people are about as friendly as a den of grizzlies.”

  “I’m sure.” Emma was sewing a new dress. Well, she was turning an old dress into a new one, and Calla was helping her. She wanted to look her best. Just in case Tom turned up early.

  “You know she ain’t going anywhere until she’s seen him.” Calla giggled. “She hasn’t gone to all this effort just to toss it in now.”

  Anna clucked. “Well, I hope he hurries up, because you sure can’t afford to keep losing money like this.”

  “Sure I can. My money situation is just fine,” Emma said. “Those old cats will get used to us eventually. Once they taste our baking, they’ll be doomed.”

  “And I ain’t leaving the preacher,” Calla added.

  “He ain’t even spoken to you yet.” Anna couldn’t quite keep the exasperation from her voice.

  “Sure he has. He shakes my hand and wishes me a good day every Sunday as I leave the church. I’m making headway. I can tell.” Calla looked satisfied. She didn’t have to worry about this one finding out about her past—the whole town already knew.

  “And what if it don’t work out with Tom?” Anna asked, turning her attention back to Emma.

  Emma grinned at her. “Are you doubting
me? I’m so confident I’m even buying a house here.”

  She’d found a property east of town. It was a pretty little farmhouse, with a view over the valley, where she could see the smoke curling above the treetops from the Kalapuya camp. From the front porch, you could see the whole town laid out, smoke puffing from the chimneys, with the mountains rising in the background. It had a nice big kitchen, and the bedroom windows looked out on the same view as the porch. She fancied lying in bed and looking out at all that prettiness. At this time of year, the leaves were singed red and gold, like burning embers. And the back of the house looked out on a whole ocean of trees. When the wind blew, it sounded just like the sound of the surf rolling into the shore.

  “You liked the house, then?” Anna asked.

  “It’s perfect.”

  Anna didn’t agree it was perfect at all when she finally saw it. “It’s not even finished!” she complained. It was true. The man Emma had bought it from had caught gold fever before the house was done. It was missing a couple of walls and most of the stairs. As well as all of the fittings. But she had money; she could pay someone to get it done. Dell Pritchard was always hanging about like a bad smell; she might as well put him to work.

  “This way I can have everything exactly the way I want it,” she told Anna cheerfully. “I can buy the stove I want, and have more windows put in. I’m going to get a bathtub with a view, just like we talked about at the hacienda. I’ll put it round the back of the house, so I can look out at that big old forest. I’ll put double doors in the bathroom, and they’ll open onto a balcony, and I’ll be able to throw them open in summer and bathe naked to the world!”

  Calla applauded with glee.

  “Can I live there too?” Winnie asked.

  “No, pet, but you can visit. You and Anna are going to have the store all to yourselves.” She hadn’t told Anna yet, but she was going to give her the deed to the place. She’d keep shares in it, because she was sure one day it would turn a profit, but Anna would have her own little nest egg. And a home in which to raise Winnie.