by Beverly Long
***
When Bella woke up, she had no idea how long she’d been sleeping. A quick look at the almost-burned-out stove told her it had been several hours. Even so, she didn’t feel rested.
When she got home, she was going to sleep for a solid week.
Which shouldn’t be that much of a problem. After all, at home nobody expected her to manage a store or watch over an injured woman or dupe Bad Magic. Nobody really expected much out of her at all.
It wasn’t that startling revelation that caused her to stare into the darkness tonight. No. She’d known that for years. It was the fact that it suddenly bothered her that had her heart beating a little too fast in her chest.
Desperate to fall back to sleep, she tried counting sheep. When that was a bust, she resorted to making up songs where words needed to rhyme with out and house and canned meat— the things that disgusted her about the good old days. She got pretty inventive with a song about her need to pout about a louse in her tan sheets or to shout about the mouse running down the sand street.
Finally, she got up, lit the lantern, added wood to the stove, and started organizing the tools section. She took the liberty of using one of the new hammers as well as a few nails. With every swing, she imagined she was striking Toomay’s face, smashing it, obliterating him and his Bad Magic. It was oddly therapeutic and she began to feel almost peaceful.
Soon she had most of the items neatly hanging on the wall. She figured if she kept going at the same rate, she’d get the few remaining tools hung and make good progress on organizing the jumble of pots, pans, and assorted dishes. Heck, she might even be brave enough to tackle the canned goods.
***
Jed stepped off the sidewalk and walked into the street. A few wagons had gone through, packing the snow enough that it made for easier walking.
He walked past the saloon. Snake usually closed up by 2 am and it looked like tonight was no exception. The windows were dark. Earlier in the evening, he’d left the sheriff’s office for a few minutes to walk down to the saloon. The place had been crowded, especially for a snowy night. It had made him think that people were damn hard to figure out. Most everybody last night had expressed disgust at the shooting but there’d been an excitement in the crowd that could not be denied. He’d wondered if tonight’s crowd had been drawn in by the stories. Had people come tonight hoping to witness someone else’s misfortune?
If so, they’d have left dissatisfied because Toomay hadn’t been there. There’d been no sign of Bella, either. He’d had a moment of panic, wondering if the two could possibly be together, when common sense had prevailed. Bella would be home, tending to Freida.
He kept walking. As long as he was out, he figured he might as well check the back door to the Mercantile. Freida didn’t need any new worries. He was twenty feet from the shop when the hair on the back of his neck prickled. He studied the window of the Mercantile. The curtains had been drawn but there was just a sliver of space between them, allowing him to see into the store.
There was a lantern burning in the store. When he’d been by three hours ago, there’d been no light. He’d have noticed it.
He drew his gun and he slipped quietly back into the shadows. He was two feet from the back door when his boot slipped and before he knew it, he was flat on his ass. Jed stood up and hurriedly brushed the snow off his trousers. Damn ice. He was lucky he hadn’t shot himself.
He stood outside the back door, his heart thumping in his chest. There were no tracks leading into the store so if the thief had come in through this way, he’d been inside for some time. There was no telling how much damage he’d done.
But the door didn’t look vandalized. Jed tried it. Locked. Knowing that his fall might have announced his approach, he didn’t waste any time reaching inside his coat. He slipped two fingers into his vest pocket and grabbed the extra key that Freida had given him.
He eased it into the lock, turned, pushed, and held his breath while the door swung open. Luckily, Freida had oiled the hinges recently and it opened silently. He eased into the room. It was dark now and he knew that someone had extinguished the light. He tightened his grip on his gun. All the frustration he’d had pent up inside of him threatened to boil to the top.
The son-of-a-bitch was going to regret that he’d picked this night and this place. Freida was flat on her back. She didn’t need or deserve any additional worries.
Motionless, he listened. The store was quiet. Was it possible that the man inside had already left through the front door?
Jed didn’t think so. He was still here. Jed could feel it. He rubbed his thumb across the butt of his gun and took a step forward.
***
Bella felt the cold air sweep into the store and knew that the back door had opened. A minute earlier, she’d heard a noise outside the back door. She reached for the lantern, extinguished the light, and slipped into the shadows. She hadn’t let go of her hammer.
She pressed her spine against the rough wall and wished she could disappear into the wide boards. She needed her magic. She was a fool to think that she could get along without it.
She heard the crack of a floorboard and knew the intruder was advancing. Why in the hell had she decided to stay in town?
She raised her arm and tightened her grip on the hammer. She did not intend to make this easy. She heard another soft creak. Closer.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, roaring in her ears. The absolute blackness of the store made her feel disoriented, lightheaded.
Suddenly, he walked past her, so close that he brushed against her wide skirt. She gasped, he whirled, and she lunged forward, swinging her hammer wide.
Her forearm was blocked. It was like running into a wall of steel. The pain vibrated up and down her arm. Her suddenly numb fingers allowed the hammer to fly from her hand. It crashed into something, sending merchandise thundering to the ground.
The man pushed her back toward the wall, jerking her shoulders, pinning her arms above her head.
“Ouch,” she said.
Her attacker froze. She tried to bring her knee up.
He twisted and pressed her back against the wall. “I should have known,” he said.
She sagged with relief and would have slid to the floor if he hadn’t been holding her up. “Jed?” she whispered.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked. His tone was harsh. “I could have shot you, you damn fool.”
Damn fool. Damn fool. The words seemed to bounce off the walls and come at her from all directions. They were jagged shards of light, blues and greens and reds, ripping across a black sky.
Bella felt a surge of rage. She was nobody’s fool. She straightened her spine, balanced her weight on her legs, brought her arms up between their two bodies, pressed her forearms against his chest, and pushed as hard as she could. “Let go of me,” she hissed.
“God damn you, I would if I only could,” he said. His voice was guttural. He stepped forward, crowding her, pressing his knee between her legs. His big body radiated heat, power, control.
They were so close that her arms were squished between his chest and her breasts. She felt trapped, subdued.
With one hand, he grabbed a handful of dress and yanked it up. She felt cold air on her bare leg and his hot breath against her neck. It was an erotic combination.
He wadded her long skirt up and leaned backwards, leaving just enough space between his chest and her arms to stuff the material there. Then he leaned forward again, effectively pinning her dress up.
Then he put a hand on each hip, grabbed the sides of her bikini panty and ripped. The poor thing didn’t have a chance.
She was just about to protest when his fingers found her.
Oh, lord. His touch was cold and insistent and she was hot and needy. He flicked his thumb across her once, again, and she bucked against his hand.
He probed, higher. Her inner muscles tightened, then flexed. He nipped at her neck and wedged his free hand between their bodies and thro
ugh her dress and bra, pulled hard at her nipple.
She was vibrating with sensation, like a guitar string that had been strummed. Suddenly, if was as if the string was being plucked tight, then tighter still, until finally it was let go and waves of pleasure, each more intense than the last, flowed through her. She poured into his hand and when it was over, when the last of the sensations had finally quieted, leaving her drained, she felt as if her legs had turned to spaghetti.
And she was sure she might have slipped to the ground if he hadn’t somehow managed to shed his pants. In one smooth motion he lifted her, pressed her back against the wall, and entered her.
Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He slipped his hands under her bare bottom and pounded into her, each thrust harder. He was thick and hot and she felt as if she was going to rip apart.
It was wonderful.
She squeezed her inner muscles together and heard his groan. She did it again. He stiffened, pushed deeper still, and he came inside of her, sending her over the edge all over again.
Minutes later she was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing. She thought it had something to do with the fact that even though she still had her legs around him, he’d collapsed his upper body against her.
“Jed,” she whispered.
His head snapped up. He pulled back, enough that her bunched up dress fell free. She unwrapped her legs and when she stood, moisture trickled down her inner thighs.
Wow. No plane, no seatbelt, no damn dry pretzels. But she’d been flying. The take off had been swift, engines had raced, and the landing had been so very sweet. Welcome to the Mile High Club, Bella.
She really did feel a little lightheaded. “Maybe we should light a lantern,” she suggested.
He yanked up his pants and stepped back so fast that he tripped and something, cans she thought, clattered to the ground. She heard a match strike twice before he finally got the lantern lit. Soft light filled the room.
He stood five feet away, his face full of concern. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what just happened.”
She’d just gotten royally fucked and it had been very nice. That’s what had happened. But now what? Hello seemed to be a bit after the fact. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I saw the light in the store and I thought someone had broken in. It never occurred to me that you might have spent the night.”
She took a step toward the scattered cans and winced. Her dress might have fallen back into place but her hip joints were still thinking about it.
He lunged for her, as if he was afraid she might fall. “You should probably sit down,” he said.
She shook her head. “Jed, I’m fine.”
He stared at her. “I used you pretty hard,” he said, his voice rough, full of remorse.
She rolled her eyes. Deliberately. And with her eyes, that was a damn fine way to make a statement. “Jed, blame doesn’t become you. Look, it wasn’t planned but all in all, it was very nice. I could have stopped you. I know I could have if I’d tried.”
“I’m not so sure,” he said.
She was sure. Jedidiah McNeil was a pain in the rear but he wasn’t the type to force a woman.
He stared at her. “What now?” he asked.
“Are you hungry?”
He blinked his eyes, as if that might help his hearing. It clearly wasn’t the question he’d expected. “I guess,” he said.
“I could make some tea. And there are crackers and dried fruit.” She pointed to the back room. “Maybe we could just sit and talk.”
He cocked his head. “You want to talk? After that?”
“Well, I don’t think I have the strength to do it again. At least not this minute.”
He studied her. “I can’t figure you out.”
“I’m not that complex, Jed.” It was a lie. Being half-witch, half-mortal made her more complex than most. But there were no explanations she could give him. She sat down on the bed.
She held out her hand. “Please, Jed. Just sit. We don’t need to talk.”
He took her hand. They didn’t sit, however. Instead he lay down on the bed and pulled her down in front of him. He tucked his legs in behind her and held her spoon fashion. His big body radiated heat.
She felt warm and safe and she couldn’t feel a lump or a bump in the mattress. She felt peaceful. In her head, she knew the peace was fleeting. It was December fifth. Tonight she would kill a man and there was nothing peaceful about that. It would be the most difficult thing she’d ever had to do. The most important. She could not fail.
But, as she snuggled her bottom closer to him and felt an immediate response, she allowed herself to simply enjoy the moment, to feel absolutely blissful.
They slept. She wasn’t sure for how long but it was still dark when they woke. This time, Jed pulled her into his arms and very slowly, very gently, made love to her. He undressed her with care, he worshiped her body with soft kisses and gentle licks, and when she shattered in his arms, he held her tightly to him and she desperately wanted time to stop.
They slept again and this time when they woke up, it was just getting light outside. He stretched, groaned, and sat up, swinging his bare legs over the side of the cot. She continued to lie on her side. She reached out and ran a lazy finger up his spine. She smiled when she saw the gooseflesh on his arms. “Don’t tell me you’re ticklish,” she said.
He turned and lightly wrapped a hand around her wrist. “I won’t, then. Don’t make me hurt you,” he teased.
Too late. It was going to hurt like hell to walk away from this man. Her body, which had been toasty warm a few minutes ago now felt cold. “You’d better go,” she said.
He frowned at her. “What’s wrong? Why so serious?”
“It’s going to be day soon,” she said. “Someone will see you leaving here.”
“I don’t…”
“Care,” she finished. “Yes, you do. But that’s okay. I understand. I won’t tell anyone that you were here.”
All teasing had left his eyes. “I’m not ashamed of being with you,” he said. “None of this is about you.”
It was all going to be about her once she’d disappeared and people started putting the pieces together. If everybody knew that Jed had been suckered into bed by her, then he would be the laughingstock of the community. There was no way she was going to let that happen.
“I think you’ve been right all along,” she said. “There’s no need for anybody to know about…this.” Good grief. It made it sound like a science experiment. “About us,” she corrected.
He studied her for a long minute. Then he got up and slowly got dressed. He had his hat on and was buttoning his coat before he spoke again. “I’d like to see you again before you go tomorrow.”
She had a full schedule—she was killing a man today. “I’m going to be pretty busy.”
He didn’t respond right away. “That’s fine,” he said finally. “I’m planning on riding out this morning anyway. There are a few smaller communities within this county that I’m responsible for and I generally visit once a week. I haven’t been since before you arrived in Mantosa. I’ll be back late tonight. Will you be here?”
It wasn’t an innocent question. She could not make love to him again. She’d never be able to leave. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Since it’s my last night here, I’ll spend it with Aunt Freida. I’ll stop by your office in the morning.”
He didn’t look satisfied but he didn’t push either. He simply nodded and walked out the back door.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was another half hour before Bella finally forced herself to move. She picked up the remains of her panties and realized they were a goner. Her bra was in better shape but she didn’t have the energy to put it back on. Instead, she walked over to the shelf of women’s underwear and picked up a pair of pantaloons and a camisole. She ran her hands across the thin cotton.
It wasn’t your typical souvenir but these w
ould be the only things she would take with her when she left tonight. She’d wanted a music box from Saul’s but the man had been pretty clear. If he saw her in his store, she could expect trouble. She already had enough trouble.
She pulled on the blouse and skirt that she’d worn the day before and ran a brush through her hair. She turned and picked up the blanket on the bed, intending to fold it. Instead she lifted it up to her nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled of Jedidiah McNeil.
Feeling weak, she sat down. Sometime during the night, when Jed’s arms had been around her, she admitted the truth to herself. She loved him.
That and four dollars would get her a cup of coffee at Starbucks. It just didn’t matter.
Their worlds were a hundred and thirty years apart. She was a witch. He wasn’t. She loved indoor plumbing. He’d never heard of it. The list of differences was endless.
She set the blanket down and went out to light the stove. She hadn’t had the store open long when Thomas Bean came in. “Your aunt is fine,” he said, without being prompted.
She felt a profound sense of relief. Aunt Freida might not really be her aunt but she’d come to care deeply about her. “Who is with her now?”
“My mother.”
The corner of Bella’s mouth curled up before she could stop it. Thomas saw it and he grinned, looking suddenly much younger. “I know,” he said. “It could be a mistake but my mother wants to get to know my bride.”
“Your what?”
Thomas’s chest pushed out and he almost beamed. “I told my mother last night that I intend to marry your Aunt Freida.”
“Have you happened to mention this to Aunt Freida?”
It was as if she’d pulled the plug—the air, the confidence, it dissipated quickly. “I was hopeful that you might be of some assistance with that—you being family and all.”
She wasn’t family and she was leaving tonight. “I don’t know, Thomas,” she hedged.
“She values your opinion, Bella. Please,” he begged.
Good grief. How many people was she going to have to disappoint before she left Mantosa? She’d planned to close the store for a couple hours anyway so that she could say goodbye to Aunt Freida. Maybe she could slip in a word or two on Thomas’s behalf. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.