by Jodi Thomas
She was so still, he thought she might jump from the wagon if he reached for her.
“But,” he continued, “I swear I’ll never touch you unless you want it; so there’s no reason to be afraid of me. You’ve no need to jump when I step within a foot of you.”
“I’m not afraid.” Delta steadied herself as if ready for battle. She would not live another day of her life in fear of any man. “I’ll stay a month, providing you don’t try to hurt me. That’s the only promise I make, Mr. Barkley. One month.”
“Agreed.” He looked at her closely. “Whoever turned you against men did a grand job, but I hadn’t expected you’d come without a few ghosts haunting you. After all, I have my share.”
He slowly pulled a small derringer from his vest pocket and held it out to her. “Tell you what, if it makes you feel safer, you can shoot me if I ever break my word. There’s only two shots in it, but I guess they’ll do the job if need be.”
She accepted the pistol. She’d missed the comfort her little gun had brought her. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I will.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “You’ll have to learn that I’m a man of my word. Until you do, the gun is yours.”
Delta moved the weapon beneath the blanket. A man of his word. She almost repeated the sentence aloud. As if such a thing existed outside of Jennie’s dime novels.
Chapter 14
Marshal?” True leaned the broom against Austin’s desk and faced him. “I’ve been noticing a suspicious-looking man hanging around. Maybe he’s the one you and Sheriff Morris been waiting for. He looks the type of fellow who’d have a grand time burning a whole town to the ground. In fact I’m sure he’s that man Buck Lawton, just from the look of him.”
Austin took a break from his paperwork and smiled at the boy. In the week True had been showing up to do odd jobs around the jail, the child had managed to have a different story for him every day. True had picked up just enough information from him and Morris to see an outlaw around every corner. And the ragamuffin’s imagination was growing wilder by the minute inside the dirt-covered body. “Another suspicious stranger? What does Lawton look like this time?”
True looked offended. “This one’s real, I swear. Even Henry saw him and said he looks evil to the bone.”
Austin’s smile widened. Since no one but True ever saw Henry, he seemed less than a credible witness, yet Austin played along. “Want to describe this stranger?”
True motioned with tiny hands. “He’s a big man, with a big chest. Not fat, just big. But not like a bear because he doesn’t have any hair on him. From head down he looks slicker than a cleaned fish from what skin’s showin’.” True’s eyes danced with make-believe. “Maybe he was tortured by wild Indians years ago, and they pulled the hairs out one at a time.”
“True!” Austin stopped the child. “Stick to the facts and leave the guessing aside.”
True nodded as if giving important testimony. “Yes, sir. Well, Henry and me noticed him a few days after the train wreck. He’s been sleeping in one of the stalls over at the livery, but something’s wrong. He don’t try to get a job or nothin’, and he ain’t too friendly. Like maybe he was treated real bad the last time he tried to be nice. So bad the niceness in him just up and died.”
“What else did you see?” Austin waited patiently. In truth, he loved hearing the child’s stories almost as much as True seemed to enjoy making them up.
“Well, for one, he sleeps with the horses, but he don’t like them. Henry and me heard him cussing them something awful this morning. Seems to me a man who don’t even like horses couldn’t be a good person. If I had a horse, I’d feed him ever’day whether I got to eat or not. Henry said he’d do the same.”
“But what makes the hairless man an outlaw?” Austin changed the subject back to the stranger before True got carried away with all the things he planned to do if he ever had a horse.
True scratched his dirty brown hair. “Don’t you see, Marshal? A man who had no love for horses wouldn’t sleep in the barn. And Henry says the stranger sleeps days and walks around ever’ night. Then he goes over to the saloon and gets drunk.”
“Doesn’t sound like the most outstanding citizen but …”
“But if he has money to drink, why don’t he stay at the hotel?”
Austin didn’t have time to explain to True that poor judgment in a drunkard didn’t necessarily mean an outlaw. He just smiled and said, “I’ll check the lead out. Tell Henry thanks for the information.”
True was satisfied. “I told him you’d want to know what we found. We’re keeping our eyes open watching for trouble.”
Austin tossed True a quarter. “How about we call it a day? Since there are so many suspicious characters out there, why don’t you ride back to the Harvey House with me? I bet they’re serving supper by now.”
True straightened. “I don’t need anyone protecting me, but Henry says there are safety in numbers; so maybe I’ll go along with you. Can I ride in front and hold the reins?”
Austin grabbed his hat. “You bet. Then after supper I’ll head on over to the livery and check on this big man with no hair while I put up my horse.”
“Want Henry and me to come along?” True asked as Austin opened the door. “We could back you up.”
Austin crammed his hat low, hoping the child couldn’t see the laughter in his eyes. “No, thanks,” he answered. “You and Henry best stay inside tonight.”
True passed through the door. “I’ll tell Henry, but he ain’t much for taking orders.”
Austin followed, whispering, “He isn’t the only one.”
* * *
THE LIGHTS FROM the Harvey House had a welcoming glow about them, making Austin homesick for nowhere in particular, just homesick. As he lowered True from his saddle, he heard Jennie calling the boy’s name. He hadn’t noticed her standing at the end of the porch in the twilight, but now he couldn’t take his gaze off her.
One strand of her ebony hair had fought free from her bun during her work and now blew across her face in a lazy curl. She’d removed her white apron and was dressed in black, framed against the moonless sky. She looked up at him with the same longing in her eyes that he felt. He wanted to talk to her, but there was nothing to say. If she wasn’t going to be honest, he wasn’t going to bend.
True ran past her skirts shouting something about being late for fresh rolls, but Jennie didn’t turn away from Austin. For this blinking of time, when the earth was neither in daylight or dark, she seemed more a dream than real, more a making of his longing than a person in the flesh standing so near. He remembered being out on the plains for so long that he thought he’d seen things that weren’t there. Now he knew she was only a few feet away, but she might as well have been a mirage.
Without thinking of why, he moved his horse closer until he was at eye level with her. Only the porch railing stood between them. The homesickness he’d felt earlier shone in her eyes also.
Suddenly the emptiness he’d felt all week swept over him. He felt like a man dying of thirst when water was within his grasp.
In one senseless moment he reached for her and pulled her onto his saddle. She raised her hands to hold him, as though she’d been lifted up into his arms a million times. Before anyone noticed, he kicked his horse and disappeared into the deepening shadows among the trees.
Jennie didn’t make a sound as he rode out beyond the lights and pulled his horse up. He could hear her breathing and feel the warmth of her body even through their clothes. Even now, with her holding onto his waist, he wasn’t sure she was real.
Without a word he twisted Jennie in his arms to face him and kissed her, his lips hard and demanding. He wanted her to feel what she was doing to him with her lies. She had to know how much he wanted her in his arms before he went mad from thinking about her.
She answered his need with her own. Her hands dug into his hair and pulled him closer. The kiss was alive with a passion and fire that had been too
long denied.
“I don’t care for you!” he blurted as he pressed her against him. “I don’t care for you,” he repeated as if saying the words could make them true.
He could feel the swell of her breasts against her blouse and the warmth of her leg as it rested over his thigh. While she kissed him, he unbuttoned the first two buttons of her top with hands that seemed clumsy and foreign in even such a simple task.
Jennie leaned away from him, unaware of how white her skin looked in the night. He could see her breasts straining against the top of her camisole as she breathed.
“I’ve nothing to say to you.” She placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. “This is not happening. I must be dreaming. Nothing like this has ever happened to me.”
“If we are dreaming, then dream of this,” Austin said as he pulled her close and kissed her until he feared he was bruising her lips with his longing.
Her body melted into his arms. Her lips parted in a soft moan against his mouth. Slowly all the anger he’d felt toward her turned to desire, and his kiss turned gentle.
He couldn’t stop his hand from sliding along her throat and brushing the lace against her soft flesh.
“Unbutton your blouse,” he whispered into her hair.
“But …”
“If this is a dream, let it be a fantasy. Loosen your blouse.” His arm at her back held the reins, and he longed for the freedom of both his hands.
Jennie’s back stiffened as she pulled away. Without a word she slowly unbuttoned her top to the waistband. Then, with a fist on each side, she pulled the material free until the black of her uniform fell away from her creamy skin.
For a long breath all Austin could do was stare as her chest rose and fell beneath a single layer of white cotton.
She reached up and dropped one strap of her camisole so that the cloth covering her breast dipped dangerously low. “Is this your dream, Austin?”
“It’ll do,” he answered, longing to touch the flesh she so easily displayed.
Slowly she reached again and dropped the other strap off her shoulder. Now only the rise of her breasts held the cotton in place. “I’ve thought of you touching me,” she whispered so near his ear he could feel the words. “I’ve wondered if the feel of your hand could have been as wonderful as I remember.”
When he moved to raise his fingers, she stopped their progress and returned his hand to her waist. Her action exposed another inch of skin as the camisole slipped lower.
“If we’re dreaming, unbutton your shirt,” she ordered.
“What?”
“If this is a dream, it’s my dream, too.” She pulled at the first button of his shirt. “Stop me if you’re afraid.” Her fingers moved to the next button. “I want to feel your skin.” She moved to the next. “Tell me if you’re cold.”
He’d never felt hotter on a summer day. He knew the air was almost freezing, but the touch of her fingers along his shirt was setting a fire along his flesh.
She moved her hands inside his shirt and ran timid fingers over the dusting of hair there. Her lips moved feather-light across his cheek, as though begging for attention she knew he was more than willing to give.
He could stand her teasing no longer. He pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his. There was no world other than with her, for all else had slipped away.
His kiss lasted so long Jennie felt herself spinning with pleasure. While his lips pleased her, his hand shifted at her waist, straining to move upward. But each time she shoved his hand back in place.
Suddenly he pushed her away. She could see the fire and hunger in his eyes as he looked at her. He raised his hand to touch her breasts, and once more she stopped him.
“You don’t care for me,” she whispered, “but you want to touch me.” She leaned slightly forward, straining the cotton over the heaven he longed for.
Austin slowly lowered his hand, fighting his need. “I’ll not touch you if you don’t want it.”
“I want you to swear to me that your hand will stay at my waist.” Jennie was so near, the wonderful smell of her filled his lungs.
“Swear!” she demanded while her fingers lightly shoved his shirt aside.
“I swear,” he answered. He didn’t know what game she was playing, but he’d allow her to torture him all night. She’d just made him swear to do what he figured to be near impossible.
“Close your eyes,” she whispered. “People always close their eyes when they’re dreaming.” Her tongue lightly tasted the outline of his bottom lip.
Austin did as she wished, even though he wanted to continue to watch the rise and fall of the cotton over her breasts.
“Now, kiss me,” she begged softly against his lips. “And promise not to stop until I break the kiss.”
He followed her request. As the kiss deepened, she moved closer, pressing her body against his chest.
He felt all logic shatter into passion as he realized her camisole had slipped and her soft flesh was pushing against the wall of his chest.
Her hand covered his at her waist, forcing him to keep his promise while she moved slowly against him. The kiss was endless, as was the pleasure she gave him with her gentle touch. In all the world, in all of time, he’d never been given such a gift.
When finally she broke the kiss and slipped her blouse on, he couldn’t find words to tell her how he felt. How could he say thank you for being given a taste of something he’d starve for for the rest of his life. He held her close and rode back to the hotel, stopping well in the shadows.
“Thank you for the dream,” she whispered as he lowered her to the ground. “I’ll remember it always.”
He wanted to tell her that they’d make other dreams, but he knew she was saying good-bye. She might have had a dream tonight, but she wasn’t the kind of woman to live her life on dreaming.
He closed his eyes and remembered the way Jennie had felt against him in the shadows. When he looked back, she’d vanished inside and he was in the same place he’d been only minutes before when he’d dropped off True. But somehow in the change between twilight and evening the world had shifted. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never have a dream as beautiful as Jennie in his arms tonight.
A pleasure so sweet it would rip longing through his heart with every breath he took until his last.
Chapter 15
Jennie moved through the next week mourning the loss of what might have been with Austin. She pushed herself to work harder and faster, hoping she’d be able to sleep. But each night the memory of the feel of Austin’s arms haunted her. The romantic in her wanted him to stop by another night and carry her away, but the realist knew she couldn’t weave her future with stolen passion. She relived the night they’d acted out a dream so many times she was unsure where reality blended amid her memories.
Austin didn’t seem to share her confusion, for he dropped in for meals as though the Clifton Harvey House were his second home. Since he made no comment or attempt to relive their shared dream, Jennie wondered if she’d been too bold in the shadows. He became so familiar a sight, the other Harvey girls didn’t even bother trying to seat him, for they knew he’d be taking a table in Jennie’s section.
Every time he walked into the dining room, Jennie could sense his presence, even before she turned around and met his gaze. He made no pretense of being a stranger. While he ordered and ate his meal, he watched her with eyes that seemed to grow darker with anger each day.
Jennie tried to ignore him, but she was drawn to the strong outline of his jaw and the way he moved with assurance and inner strength. Finally, when she could resist no longer, she’d look in his direction, always to find him staring at her. His close scrutiny split her nerves, unraveling the very core of calmness her family had wound around her so tightly for so many years.
She wanted to run to him and beg him to hold her. She longed to feel his lips playfully teasing her mouth. If only she could place her hand over his heart once more and feel the pounding t
hat warmed her blood with desire. Yet all except thoughts were lost to her. He’d made it plain he could never care for a woman who lied, and she could never betray Delta.
One evening, after Audrey had watched in silence for almost a week, she mumbled as Jennie came through the kitchen door, “Honey, you got to do something about that man. He’s becoming such a regular they’re likely to paint him to match the furniture.”
“What can I do?” Jennie set the tray of dishes down and wiped her hands on her apron. “We have nothing more to say to one another.”
“Maybe not.” Audrey peeked through the crack in the pass-through door between the kitchen and dining hall. “But there may be other things he’s needing besides talk. That man looks so unhappy eating his food every night, he’s liable to run off business. If there wasn’t proof of an empty plate at the end of each meal, I’d swear from his look that he was forcing down dirt.”
Jennie laughed. “We could probably serve him sand pies for all the attention he pays. I don’t understand. I think he knows I lied about Delta, though he has no proof. He said he could never care for a woman who lied.” She pushed damp hair off her forehead. “So why does he come here every night, watching me, but never talking to me?”
“Men are a great puzzle. Sometimes I think the Lord made them the way they are just to keep us women guessing, ‘cause there sure isn’t a drop of logic in their actions.” Audrey flour-dusted the huge wooden bowl she used for making her bread. “Take Wiley, for instance …”
“Wiley who?” Jennie raised an eyebrow.
“You know, the farmer who delivers meat twice a week. The one I patched up the other morning.”
“Oh.” Jennie smiled, remembering the huge man who couldn’t stop staring at Audrey. Despite his build, he’d reminded her of a little child passing a store window. He enjoyed the view so much, he should have been charged for looking.
“Well, when Wiley comes in delivering meat,” Audrey moved her dough bowl out of the reach of anyone who might accidentally wash it, “if I’m not in the kitchen, the cooks say he hangs around until I appear. He acts all nervous, too, like he was waiting for the Second Coming or something. Then, when I come down, the big oaf doesn’t have a thing to say to me.”