by E. E. Burke
His gaze remained hooded and his chest heaved, as if he was having the same trouble as she was with breathing normally. He flexed his fingers. For a moment, she feared he might reach for her again, and if he did, she knew she wouldn’t be able to withstand his desire. How did one fight a force of nature?
At last, he turned aside, signaling he’d allow her to put a safe distance between them…for now. She supposed she ought to feel relief rather than regret.
Appearing tired, he threaded his fingers through his hair. “There was a bonfire made from railroad ties that was blocking our way. It wasn’t so large that the engine couldn’t plow through, but we weren’t convinced the tracks were still there. I had to make sure. When the engineer charged through, I got singed.”
She caught a sharp breath. “You were out there…where those men could see you?”
He gave her a wry smile, which she supposed was meant to comfort her, but only convinced her that he’d taken a terrible chance.
“They couldn’t see much through all the smoke. The brakeman and the fireman kept them away from the cab. As the train passed, I jumped aboard and climbed to the top of this car so I could see better and prevent them from boarding.”
She glanced at the ceiling. “That was you shooting from up there?”
He nodded. “One varmint got far as the landing, but I made sure he didn’t get inside. Then I stayed up there for a while, in case some of them managed to climb aboard and tried to catwalk over the cars to get to us.”
Feeling weak and slightly ill, Susannah made her way to the benches. “I believe I’ll sit down.” She made a halfhearted attempt to fix her hair. She needed a moment, and a bit of distance between them, because she desperately wanted to feel his hands on her again. Oh, but she was in deep trouble!
A few feet away, Ross had removed his coat and was examining it. He put his finger through a round hole in the side that looked like it was made from a bullet. “Guess they could see better that I thought.”
Susannah’s head grew light. “I’m not sure why you find that amusing.”
“What makes you think I’m amused?” He picked up the rifle and brought it over, placing it on the floor beside the bench where she was sitting, then plopped down beside her and draped his arm across the back.
After the liberties she’d given him, she shouldn’t expect he’d keep a proper distance. Being truthful with herself, she didn’t really want him to. She felt safe, secure, which were two things she hadn’t felt in a long time.
He cupped her shoulder, drawing her closer, and she indulged the yearning and leaned against him. No one else was around to judge them, and Ross—for all his talk about proper behavior—wasn’t a shining example, nor did she think he cared overly much whether she was either. He was a sensual creature. A proper woman would’ve called his kisses and fondling an assault, but she’d seen it for what it was—an invitation. Now he offered simple comfort and affection, which revealed another hidden facet of his personality. Tenderness.
He caressed her upper arm, sending a shiver dancing across her skin. In response, he nuzzled her hair. “Is the wind making you cold?”
“No. It’s warm in here.”
“Are you recovered?”
“From being scared out of my wits? Yes.” She wasn’t sure she would recover from this other affliction. She sincerely hoped he was suffering from it too.
“You’re safe with me, I want you to know that. I’d never allow anyone to hurt you.”
He wasn’t talking about the danger he posed, which in some ways seemed greater than what she’d just faced. She now trusted him with her life, though she wasn’t so certain she could trust him with her secrets. They still barely knew each other. For Danny’s sake, she had to be prudent. She put her hand on his chest, over his heart. “Thank you for protecting me.”
He grasped her fingers and brought them to his lips, kissing each tip. “Always.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. He’d said he wished to court her, and despite her reservations, hearing him declare his intentions to protect her thrilled her. “Should we run into another band of ruffians, I will be sure to know more about handling a gun. I almost shot you.”
The smile that pulled at his mouth seemed a bit strained. “If I run into those sons of…rascals again, you won’t be with me. I shouldn’t have brought you along this time. Val told me he’d heard talk about a possible attack against the railroad. The leaguers are always spouting threats, most of them nothing but hot air. This time…” He heaved a sigh. “When I think about what could’ve happened to you, it makes my blood run cold.”
His confession chilled her blood as well. Ross knew about the potential for danger, yet he ignored it and asked her to come along. Granted, he also risked his own life to see that she, and the rest of the crew, escaped. So he was brave, as well as arrogant and careless.
He tightened his arm around her. “That’s a mistake I won’t repeat.”
She wouldn’t give him the chance.
Susannah pulled away and sat up straight, her heart pounding. “Your careless attitude toward danger will get you killed…or me…or Danny.”
She looked away from the pain reflecting in his eyes. Flaying his conscience wouldn’t make her feel any better, nor would it change anything. Ross had made a mistake. Thank God it hadn’t been one with irrevocable consequences.
He acted as if he was impervious to death. Dan had been much the same. He’d talked like he couldn’t be killed, and she had convinced herself that Fate wouldn’t part them. Now, she knew better. If she couldn’t trust Ross to guard his own life, she couldn’t put her son into his care, no matter how badly she wanted him.
“I’ll admit I didn’t expect this, but that doesn’t mean I’m careless. Susannah, look at me.” When she didn’t do as he asked, he grasped her jaw.
She knocked his hand away. “Just because you want something doesn’t give you the right to take it.”
His frown deepened, communicating concern more than irritation. “Your protection and well-being, and that of your son, are my foremost concern. I’ll protect you both with my life.”
The vow buried itself deep in her heart. She longed for the security Ross promised. But she’d trusted other men who had made false promises. Daniel had pledged he would return and not dishonor her. Her father had vowed to safeguard her—then tried to give her baby away. God save her from prideful men and their promises!
“You might not make this mistake again, but your arrogance blinds you. You assume you know what’s best for everyone and charge ahead, demanding blind trust. I can’t give you that kind of trust.”
His jaw clenched, and the blue in his eyes darkened nearly to black. The fierce glare might’ve frightened her, if she didn’t already know it was simply a smokescreen. He wasn’t impervious to being hurt, and her rejection had to hurt. But it was better to end this now, rather than allow desire and misplaced hope to pull her into another disaster.
Chapter 6
Ross stalked out of his office, fuming. After lecturing him about his reckless character the day before, Susannah had frozen him out. Her chilly attitude had persisted throughout their meetings and on the return trip home. She’d come to the office early, declaring she would have everything organized by the end of the day so he could pay her. Presumably so she didn’t have to see him again. Then a couple dozen women had shown up to offer her comfort. One of them, Prudence Childers, shot daggers at him with her eyes. She hadn’t liked him before, when he’d jailed the moonshiner involved in her kidnapping, the man she later married. He didn’t care if any of those women liked him, only one’s opinion mattered, and he had to figure out how to convince her to give him another chance.
Crossing the street, he headed toward O’Shea’s, or Patrick’s Charm, as the owner was calling it these days. His wife kept renaming the place. First it was a saloon, then an opera house, now it was back to being a saloon again with nightly shows starring the talented—if somewhat eccentric�
��Juliette “Charm” O’Shea. The crippled Irishman had managed to convince a beautiful entertainer to marry him, so he might be someone who could offer good advice, as well as a shot of the best Irish whiskey.
The door to the saloon—this week painted a garish green—wasn’t propped open, as usual. Ross let himself inside and hung up his hat on a new brass rack.
Patrick’s Charm was the most successful drinking establishment in town, thanks to the popularity of the famous actress who co-owned it. The tables were polished, the floors clean—most of the time—and the walls were adorned with paintings. One featured an image of Venus rising from her bath, holding a gauzy sheet in front of her, which partially obscured her nudity. Her fair hair cascaded over lush curves that called to mind Susannah’s voluptuous body.
Ross tore his attention away from the artwork. He’d never gotten hard staring at a saloon painting before, and he wasn’t about to start now.
O’Shea strolled up to the shiny mahogany bar, wiping out a glass. “Mr. Hardt, top o’ the mornin’ to you. We aren’t open yet.”
Not open? Ross fished for his pocket watch. Well, hell. It was 9:00 a.m. The other saloons opened at eight. O’Shea’s wife must have something to do with his laziness.
“What time do you start serving?” He didn’t usually drink in the mornings, but he needed something to bolster his bruised pride, and he wasn’t ready to go back to his office. Not until those fire-breathing dragons had cleared out. He should’ve put them in charge of negotiating land claims with the cantankerous leaguers. They deserved each other.
The Irishman studied him for a moment, before setting the glass on the smooth surface. “What’ll you have?”
“Whiskey. Your best.”
O’Shea retrieved a bottle from the back bar. Before he returned, he gave his petite wife a quick kiss on the cheek. Charm O’Shea looked like a china doll next to the big man. Her tiny stature, big brown eyes and golden curls gave the impression of childlike innocence, but her curves were womanly enough. Men fawned over her. She kept them in line so her husband didn’t have to kill them. Granted, she was pretty, but she wasn’t as beautiful as Susannah. None of the other women were. Susannah stood out like a magnificent field of bluebonnets amidst green grass.
Bluebonnets. Ross downed the whiskey in one gulp. Now she had him daydreaming about flowers. He hadn’t been this distracted by a woman since being calf-eyed over Olivia when he was too young and green to know better.
Mrs. O’Shea removed her apron and hung it on a hook. “You look dreadful, Mr. Hardt.”
He couldn’t possibly look as dreadful as he felt. “You don’t mince words, do you ma’am?”
“I try not to. How is Susannah faring after that awful ordeal?”
Did she sound just a tad judgmental? The whole town knew about the attack, and Ross suspected would be in unanimous agreement with Susannah’s assessment concerning his arrogance and carelessness.
He’d survived war—the one between the states and the one raging here—by using his God-given intelligence, sheer grit and superb confidence. That wouldn’t be enough when it came to taking care of a wife and children. He needed additional skills. Sadly, his mother hadn’t lived long enough to teach him, and he sure as hell hadn’t learned those kinds of skills from his father. Pa’s idea of instruction was throwing the pupil to the wolves and waiting to see if he’d get bitten before interceding.
“Mrs. Braddock is shaken, but she’s not hurt.” Thank God. “She’s organizing the office this morning. I’m sure she’d like to see you. You might run into some other women you know—roughly ninety percent of the county’s female population.”
“How nice. A reunion.”
He watched as Mrs. O’Shea tied on a pert hat adorned with feathers. Susannah didn’t have anything that nice. She wore the same tired bonnet day after day. Something else he’d need to remedy, when she was in the mood to receive gifts from him.
As O’Shea’s wife sashayed out the door, she pulled it shut behind her. Ross appreciated the gesture. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with settlers who might wander inside, making the same assumption he did about when the bar opened.
O’Shea poured another measured serving. He didn’t water down his best whiskey, so it was just as well he doled it out with some discretion. “Has the army caught them thieves?”
“Thieves?” Ross raised his head, meeting his host’s unreadable gaze. Saloons were places where men’s lips became loose. O’Shea had no doubt heard the same talk Val had picked up on, only Val hadn’t used the word thieves. No one had, as far as Ross knew. “They looked like settlers out to make trouble.”
O’Shea corked the bottle and set it aside. “There was two men in here the other day talkin’ about how common folk ought to take from the rich for a change.”
Ross’s stomach knotted. He should’ve had Blustering Bill locked up when the captain gave him the chance. “Was one of them McLaughlin?”
“No, I didn’t recognize ’em. Neither did Val. One had black hair, and the blackest eyes I ever seen. Might be an Indian, but he was dressed more like a gunslinger. Funny thing, he reminded me of the preacher.”
“Stillwater? He doesn’t wear guns.”
“Nah, wasn’t Eli. Only looked a little bit like him. The other fellow kept his hat on inside and pulled low, like he didn’t want to be recognized. There’s all sorts o’ trash roamin’ around these days. Those two, I could tell, were braggarts and troublemakers. I asked ’em to leave and ain’t seen ’em since. Val and me agreed we ought to warn you though.”
Ross leaned his arms on the bar. Curse him, he should’ve heeded the warning. “There were at least ten men who attacked the train. I thought they might be after me, with the way they treated the last land agent. Maybe they were after something else.”
The payroll? He hadn’t been transporting any money. After several thefts, the railroad had developed a less predictable schedule, but those men might’ve assumed they would find cash in his rail car, which would explain why they’d been so determined to break in. He shuddered at the thought of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to jump back on the train and hold them off. Maybe he didn’t deserve a second chance with Susannah.
“Keep your eyes open, O’Shea. If you see those strangers again, let me know. I won’t breathe a word about where I got the information.”
“Appreciate that.”
Ross put a silver dollar on the bar.
O’Shea pushed it back. “I still owe you, for what you did last month for me and Charm.”
What he did? Ross recalled only that he’d gone to check on them after Charm’s manager had shown up in town and tried to force her to leave with him. By the time Ross had reached the rail car, O’Shea had things pretty well under control—he’d broken the manager’s fingers. Seemed like a good idea to Ross to stop him from breaking the idiot’s neck. “All I did was help you chase off a snake.”
The Irishman’s square jaw hardened. “If you hadn’t convinced LaBar to leave Charm alone, I would’ve killed him.”
“Then I’m glad I spared you the noose.”
The Irishman handed Ross the bottle. “Here, take it. You might need a nip or two later.”
“Thanks.” Ross didn’t need the gift, but to refuse would tweak the Irishman’s pride, and he understood the importance of pride. According to Susannah, he understood too well. “I’m glad everything worked out. You recall I’m the one who told you to marry Miss LaBelle? I knew you two were right for each other.”
O’Shea laughed. “Oh, is that what it was? Here I thought you were just in hurry to get them gals off your hands.”
“That too.”
The Irishman looked far too gleeful for this early in the morning. “You could take care of another one yourself. Ask that pretty widow to marry you. There’s a fair pot ridin’ on whether or not she’ll take you.”
Ross rubbed his forehead, starting to get a headache. So the whole town knew he had a yen for Susann
ah. He hadn’t thought he was that obvious.
“How did you bet?”
“I’m bettin’ she says yes.”
“You might lose your money.”
O’Shea’s smile faded. “What happened? When you got her to go to work for you, we all figured it was only a matter of days before you posted the banns.”
No one out here posted banns, but that was beside the point.
“I made a grave mistake by taking her with me on that business trip. Should’ve heeded Val’s warning. Now she thinks I’m careless, and she doesn’t trust me. Can’t say I blame her.”
With a look of sympathy, O’Shea shook his head. “That’s too bad. I wonder though, if there isn’t something else holding her back. Charm didn’t trust me at first either, and it wasn’t only on account of me behavin’ like an ass. She had good reason to be skittish, only I didn’t find out why until it was almost too late.”
The Irishman’s analysis made sense, and Ross took heart at the possibility that Susannah’s rejection wasn’t solely due to his flaws. She’d lost her husband early and had been living in near-poverty, so it should come as no surprise that she’d be extra cautious. She was smart enough to know that marriage would give her the security she so desperately needed. Ross just had to convince her that he would keep her and Danny safe. Once he overcame her fears, he would stoke the passion that flared between them. Then, Susannah would be his.
He handed the bottle back to O’Shea. “Keep this here for me. I’ll be back in a few days, hopefully with good news, and we can have another round to celebrate.”
* * *
“When is Mr. Hardt coming back?” Danny bounced off the chair and ran to the front window of the land office to look outside. He’d been hopping around more than a flea ever since Rose and Val had returned to town with him. Rose, who sat in a chair on the other side of the desk, had stayed behind while Val went after supplies.
Susannah checked the ticking clock on the wall. “Mr. Hardt has only been gone for an hour. He’ll return soon, I suspect. He said he had to step out on an errand.”