An Inescapable Attraction

by Sydney Jane Baily

  He knocked back his drink and slid off the stool. Making his way over, he was within yards of the table when someone bumped into him.

  "Careful, friend," he said to a mustached man who'd stepped back without looking.

  "I ain't yer friend," the man said, slurring every word.

  Thaddeus sighed. Why did men drink to excess? How could you play cards if you were inebriated, and how could anyone choose drink over cards?

  "All right, then, but be careful, just the same."

  "Be careful, my ass!" The man threw a punch, which Thaddeus easily ducked. He only wanted to see the blasted card game. The drunk swung again, practically falling over when his follow-through corkscrewed him around in a complete circle.

  "I won!" Thaddeus heard her voice in the momentary hush after the last hand was turned over. Ellie! He glanced toward the table, still blocked two men deep all around.

  Everyone erupted in noise at her victory, at the same instant that the drunk sent his fist into Thaddeus's jaw. Luckily, the man was barely on his feet by this point and the glancing blow merely turned Thaddeus's head without causing any damage. The drunk's efforts must have sapped the last bit of strength out of him, for he slithered to the ground, unconscious.

  "Fight, fight," someone yelled. A bit late, Thaddeus thought. The fight, if you could call it that, was over.

  "Get the sheriff," someone else said, which evoked gales of laughter. Apparently, no one was going to call the law, if any even existed in the town. However, the effect was immediate: the crowd parted to get a better look at the two pugilists, and as they did, Thaddeus finally caught sight of his quarry.

  There she was, looking right at home—eyes sparkling, shuffling cards in her hands, cash in front of her. She even had a drink by her side. Good God, he wouldn't be surprised if she pulled out a cigar and began puffing away. And he'd never been so relieved in his life. He'd found her!

  "Ellie," he said and she looked up. Rather than a welcoming smile, she frowned.

  "Yes?" she prompted as though not quite recognizing him.

  Uh-oh, she wasn't going to come easy, and the prickling on the back of his neck told him it was time to go. They'd been out in the open too long.

  "Come on, darlin'. We have to get going."

  "Don't 'darling' me." Her expression turned mulish.

  At that point, he realized their section of the room had grown still. Everyone seated at Ellie's table and those surrounding her table fell silent. Heads snapped in his direction, then swung back toward her, and he knew she was enjoying a typical Ellie scene, all eyes on her.

  "We have to leave," he said firmly, trying to make her understand he would tolerate no argument. She was too easy a target sitting in a saloon, making a spectacle of herself. And then, he got that prickly feeling again. Shit!

  "I'm not going anywhere with you." All gazes returned back to him to gauge his reply.

  "You remember where we're going, right?" Every face swiveled.

  "Yup," she said, as their attention swung back again. "I'm just not going with you."

  Someone snickered. And one man at the table glowered—a sharp-eyed, mean-mouthed man who was as unhappy as a man could get playing cards. "Are we goin' to play or not? She's got a lot of our money and I, for one, am ready to win it back."

  Thaddeus looked at him. "She's all done." Then back at Ellie, "You're coming with me."

  A short, wizened man standing nearby said, "I don't think she wants to, son."

  Thaddeus ignored him.

  "No," she said plainly. "I'm not. I'm making a little travel money, right here, aren't I, boys?"

  Some laughed, except those who were losing badly to her.

  "Ellie," he said through gritted teeth.

  "You are not my husband," she pointed out. The men's heads all swiveled again, looking more appreciatively at her as a free woman, before swinging back to Thaddeus with pity. "And you are not even someone I fancy," she added.

  "Whoa!" the men chorused in unison at her bold words.

  "And I don't have to go with you," she finished.

  "That's right," said the player to her left, a carefully groomed man in a threadbare suit. "She can stay right here with us. Let Willy win his money back, sweetheart."

  Ellie made a sound of disgust. "As if I'm going to suddenly drop down a notch."

  Thaddeus rolled his eyes. He had had enough.

  "If you don't get up in the next three seconds—"

  She slammed her cards down. "What? You'll do what exactly? Shoot the place up?"

  Some of the bystanders took a healthy step backward and away from him. Good.

  "I will pick you up and carry you out of here."

  She picked up her drink and drained the glass in one swallow. "You wouldn't dare."

  Thaddeus sighed. Why did people say things like that?

  "I'm at three, Ellie."

  In two strides, he was upon her. He pulled back her chair, hefted her up by her forearms until she was on her feet, then he grabbed her at the waist and tossed her over his left shoulder, clutching her around her thighs to brace her.

  "Put me down," she hollered.

  "You shouldn't have dared me, darlin'." And he started for the entrance.

  "Wait," she shrieked. "My money."

  He stopped. A win was a win. He turned and bent backward, dipping her to the table so she could grab up her money. Then he headed toward the doors again.

  Good thing he was tall. He noticed the exact moment when the Indian tracker entered the saloon. The man wore a filthy gray hat, and trail dust covered his face. He scanned the room, like a hawk seeking its prey. Obviously, he had no interest in gaming.

  Goddamn! Thaddeus whirled in the other direction, and Ellie shrieked again.

  "Shut it," he muttered, giving her a swat on her soft behind that was perched near his cheek. He knew there'd be a back door, probably more than one. If he could just get them out unnoticed.

  Too late. He heard a commotion behind him. No doubt Stoddard's man was thrusting people aside to get a good look at the screeching woman. Thaddeus sped up, though he doubted anyone would shoot them in front of a saloon full of people.

  Reaching the back door at an off-balanced run, he kicked it open and stepped out into the dark alley, littered with bottles and other refuse, though otherwise deserted.

  Instinctively, he turned right, thinking to come around the building and return to the more populated street. Looking back once as he rounded the corner, Thaddeus stared into the face of Stoddard's half-Cherokee hired gun.

  Stoddard had boasted of him as the best damn tracker he'd ever hired, and Stoddard was a man who needed to find people more often than other folks. Thaddeus's heart sank; he doubted they'd ever manage to lose him.

  Putting Ellie down as he reached the sidewalk, Thaddeus grabbed her hand in a grip she could never break and ran, moving in and out of people until he reached his hotel. He knew they weren't safe, but for now, it was the best he could think of.

  With a nod to the younger man at the front desk, he charged right up the stairs with Ellie in tow, to his back corner room, with windows on two sides.

  Shoving her inside, he slammed the door and locked it before pushing the small wooden desk chair up under the handle. They could've run right to the hotel's livery yard, retrieved Lucky, and been on their way, except his bag was in the hotel safe. And no way in hell was he leaving that behind.

  He turned to find her standing, glaring at him, arms crossed, an expression of outrage still on her lovely face.

  "Where are your things?" he asked her, going to the window and drawing the curtains while staying out of sight. Only then did he light a lamp.

  "My bag and coat are behind the bar at the saloon you kidnapped me from." She made a sound of pure exasperation. "There was still plenty of money to be had from those men, and I'm not jesting."

  "I guess you didn't see Stoddard's man."

  She paled. "No."

  "Did you ever meet the India
n?"

  She shook her head.

  "He's good at what he does. He probably knows that I won't head out during the day." Thaddeus started pacing. "So he's already figured that we'll be on the move now while it's dark. He'll be looking for us as soon as he hears a horse. Why, he's no doubt camped at the stable right now, just waiting for us to get Lucky. Or we could wait and leave at first light when he's not expecting us, but maybe he knows that I'd think that, and he's catching some sleep until morning."

  "I have no idea what you just said," Ellie admitted, and she sat down on the bed.

  He considered his words. "Neither do I. But I think I'll take my chances with darkness. I can see as well as most men in the dark and shoot better than any of them." Hopefully.

  He ceased walking back and forth. "I suppose you want your bag?"

  "I'm not leaving town without it," she declared.

  He sat down on the bed next to her, and she scooted away from him. How were they going to share a horse if she couldn't even stand to sit beside him?

  "Did you eat?" he asked.

  "Of course, I did. I'm not stupid."

  "Really? You don't think it was downright asinine to put yourself on display in the middle of a busy saloon?"

  She shrugged. "I needed money. Not only for travel, but I owe Stoddard $10,000, don't forget."

  "How could I?"

  She looked at the money still clutched in her hand and sighed. It certainly wasn't close to what she owed, but it was a fair amount.

  "They let me into the game even though I had no ante for the pot 'cause they figured I was going to lose anyway. In the first pot, someone put in a scrap of paper that said I'd owe him a 'good bed creaking' upstairs when I lost. I took everything he had." She smiled remembering.

  He had to smile, too. A sleazy card player couldn't raise his ire. Much. He nearly admitted his admiration for her skills, but she'd put herself in a heap of danger unnecessarily.

  Watching her fold up her wad of bills, his eyes followed her movements. It was a goodly sum.

  "Were you cheating back there?" He had to ask.

  "No," she scoffed. "I didn't need to. They're not even in my league."

  That was Ellie all over—as confident as she was tough. Or so it had always seemed. However, he'd hurt her with his words, and he'd better own up to it.

  "I'm sorry 'bout what I said in the barn." He was staring at her shell of an ear because she wouldn't look at him.

  She shrugged again, but this time, she sat primly on the edge of the bed, continuing to stare straight ahead.

  "No, honestly, Ellie. I was angry, but I had no right whatsoever to take it out on you."

  She bit her lower lip, and that was the only way he knew she was even listening. Then she spoke.

  "You didn't do anything different than most people, at least in my experience. Folk often seem nice, but they can turn like snakes. Used to happen all the time to me in Spring. Everyone would be sweet as sugar cookies if they wanted something from me, such as asking a favor from my father to lower their rent or get them a job or what have you. If I didn't do it, then they'd be livid. Just like that." She snapped her fingers. "The way you did this afternoon in the barn."

  He imagined she was right, and that plenty of people tried to use her. He'd never intended to be one of them.

  She faced him and her eyes looked especially luminous in the flickering lamplight.

  "But you never treated me like that before, Thaddeus." Her voice had dipped to a whisper.

  He felt lower than that snake she'd mentioned. Without even knowing he was going to do it, he reached out and stroked the side of her lovely face, tucking her blond hair behind one ear.

  "I'm very sorry, Ellie. I behaved badly."

  She nodded slightly as if it had come clear to her. "You didn't get what you really wanted, and that made you mad. Is that right?"

  "No, no," he said. How could she think what they'd done hadn't been wonderful? What she'd shared with him had been more than he'd expected, much more than he deserved. "I swear, that's not it at all."

  He didn't want to explain to her about his jealousy, as inappropriate and useless to him as tits on a boar. Not only useless, but unwarranted and unfair, too—yet real to him, all the same.

  If they'd been thoroughly intimate, if he'd taken her right there in the loft, he had a feeling his possessiveness would have been even worse the moment after they'd done the deed.

  However, right then, he wanted to kiss her again and feel the heat spread through him, but that was what had got him in trouble in the first place. Instead, he made sure she was looking him in the eye as he told her, "Please don't run away like that again. You scared me half to death."

  "Only half?" She asked, still looking solemn, but then she gave him a small smile when he said nothing more. "I need my bag back," she added, batting his hand away from her face.

  She'd forgiven him, apparently.

  "I guess I could slip out and get it, but I hate to leave you here alone."

  She rolled her eyes. "I made it miles through the countryside by myself. I think I can rest on this bed without anything happening to me." She fanned herself with her winnings and he grinned.

  "OK, I'll be right back. But don't go anywhere." He checked his gun as he always did, then returned it to its holster. "Promise?"

  "Promise," she said, as he slipped out the window into the darkness.

  However, seven minutes later, with her bag and duster in hand, Thaddeus returned to find the door open and the room glaringly empty. He stamped his feet like a child and tossed her things down on the floor.

  Goddamnit! They were taking baby steps to Boston. Every time they got a mile closer, something got in their way. This time it was plain old abduction. Evidently, Ellie hadn't gone willingly. The room was torn up as though she'd fought like a Kilkenny cat.

  The Indian! Had to be. Who else? And the tracker was ahead of him by mere minutes; no doubt heading right back to Stoddard's riverboat. Scooping up Ellie's possessions, Thaddeus thundered down the front stairs and charged into the street. No sign of them, of course, but he hadn't expected any.

  Before he could take a step toward the livery yard and Lucky, he heard his name.

  "Mr. Sanborn," called the young desk clerk, running out of the hotel behind him. "Are you leaving?"

  With his temper short, he practically growled at the man, "And that's your business why?"

  The desk clerk took a step back. "Your bag, sir. It's in the safe."

  Thaddeus looked down at what he held in his hands—Ellie's carpetbag and coat. He broke out in a cold sweat. He'd been so caught up in rescuing Ellie, he'd actually left without his bag.

  He marched back into the hotel, the young man in tow.

  "I'm in a hurry," Thaddeus said.

  The clerk scurried off into the back room, and Thaddeus cooled his heels, wondering what was happening to Ellie at that very moment. In truth, he was glad he'd had a moment to cool down; something was niggling at him, and his gut warned him this wasn't the work of the half-Cherokee tracker, after all.

  If the Indian were responsible, Ellie wouldn't have had a chance to fight him; the tracker would have entered noiselessly through the window, pointing a gun at her head, and she would have gone quietly with no other choice.

  The clerk was back in under a minute with Thaddeus's bag. "Here you are, sir."

  "I thank you," Thaddeus said, meaning it.

  Looking the young man in the eye, he reached into his bag and pulled out a gold coin, plunking it down on the counter and sliding it toward him. The clerk's eyes widened at his good fortune.

  Tipping his hat, Thaddeus gathered his and Ellie's things and turned away.

  "You and that pretty lady have a fight?" the clerk asked, undoubtedly thinking they were now on friendly terms.

  Thaddeus froze. The pretty lady! The clerk had seen Ellie.

  He glanced back. "Why do you ask?"

  "Because she came in with you, but left wit
h Willy Young."

  Who the hell? "Willy Young?" Thaddeus prompted.

  "Yes, sir."

  Thaddeus reached in his bag for another gold coin. "Tell me everything you know and how I find this Willy Young."

  Chapter 6

  Riding east to the other end of town, Thaddeus felt relieved that Ellie had been taken by no one more dangerous than a sore loser. It was amazing to him that she'd lasted this long—a single woman, unchaperoned, traveling around the country—without getting herself killed. She plain rubbed people the wrong way. Especially gambling men who didn't like losing to a woman. Especially to a woman with a lovely face whom they expected should be naked in their bed, not beating their asses at cards.

  As the horizon shifted, he spied a ranch looming over the town on a plateau about half a mile distant, lit by moonlight and lamps in the lower windows. According to the hotel clerk, that's where he would find Willy Young.

  Looking at its location on high ground, with no trees around, Thaddeus swore. No doubt Willy had men working for him who'd been told it was their job to keep anyone from getting close.

  On the other hand, one man could slip by a whole posse if he was determined. And Thaddeus was quite determined. He couldn't afford to hesitate, let alone think of a clever plan; he figured the Indian was lined up ready to scalp him at daybreak, surprised the half-breed tracker hadn't jumped out to do that already since he and Ellie were making such a damn spectacle.

  Why, Thaddeus wouldn't be surprised if the Indian helped him get her away from Willy Young just so this latest adventure wouldn't interfere with getting her back to Jack Stoddard's clutches.

  He sighed. One adversary at a time, Sanborn!

  Since he couldn't think of anything better, he kept riding closer. There came that point where he hated to do it, but he walked next to Lucky, using his horse as a shield. Most men, particularly ranchers, wouldn't waste good horseflesh to shoot a man. Looking at Lucky's long swayback, Thaddeus sure hoped she qualified as good horseflesh.