Bleeding Heart (The Heart's Spring Book 2)

by Amber Stokes

  She sighed. After the incident with Jack, she had accepted Joe’s proposal. He offered to protect her – to give her a place to stay, and a place for her heart to be hidden away from life’s cruelties. She hadn’t realized that releasing certain insecurities would only make room for insecurities of a different kind. Was it too much to ask for someone decent to truly love her? Considering the past few years, perhaps it was.

  “I just need some attention again,” she said aloud. It sounded dangerous even without anyone in the room to tell her so, but she ignored that thought. What harm could it be to just do some shopping and such in Virginia City?

  Trying to find some pieces of confidence to sew back together, she put the last dish back in the cupboard and headed out to the barn.

  “Joe?” she called out to the stalls.

  A head poked out of one of them. A brief glimmer of hope arose. Maybe he would smile at her. That was all she wanted, really, something to let her know she was more than a burden. But it didn’t really surprise her when he didn’t smile, and the hope vanished in the shadows.

  “I’m busy, Sally. Whaddya need?”

  Her hand went to her hair, and she curled a strand around her finger. She was tempted to flirt with him. Would he open up then, maybe even laugh? Or would he look at her with disgust? Her hand dropped to her side. No, it certainly wasn’t worth the risk.

  She lifted her chin. “Can I go into town? I wanted to get some more supplies.”

  He finally stepped out of the stall, and she stopped herself from running over to him and trying to tease a hug out of him. Judging by his lack of closeness ever since they were married, the thought of touching her repelled him. It was too bad she thrived on touch…on feeling the comfort and closeness of another human being. Yes, it was just too bad for sinful little Sally Clay...Clifton.

  “What else could you possibly need?” There was a note of exasperation – or possibly exhaustion – in his voice.

  “I… I don’t know.” She should have thought of that before coming out here. “Umm… Well, I could use some more material for warmer undergarments, what with winter coming on and all…”

  “You don’t have enough clothes? Use one of yer old dresses.”

  Her fingers flexed, and she raised her eyebrows at him. “Can’t provide for yer family properly?” She hated herself.

  Joe’s fist clenched around the pitchfork in his hand. “What family?”

  “Me! I’m your wife, Joe Clifton.”

  “And a happy little family we make, huh?”

  He shoved the pitchfork against the wall, and it clattered angrily to the ground. Sally flinched, then turned to leave, rubbing at the burning in her eyes. This was ridiculous. They’d only been married for a little over a month, and they were certainly no more in love than they’d ever been.

  A form in the open doorway stopped her from stomping away. Seth looked between the two of them, and to Sally his gaze seemed emotionless – empty of sympathy, just like Joe. But then he said, “I’ll take you into town.”

  She didn’t ask Joe’s permission. She nodded curtly. “Yes, I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

  Joe went back to work without another word.

  Seth wasn’t the most cordial of company, but Sally understood. She didn’t force him to make conversation with her on the long, uphill ride to Virginia City. But when they got close to town, she placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  He nodded, his eyes fixed steadily on the road ahead. He looked much darker than his brother, and Sally wondered if it might be the grief. Was grief harder on the countenance than anger and peevishness? Either way, Joe and Seth were not easy to live with.

  Neither am I.

  Seth pulled up to the general store, now owned by Gray Vercer rather than Jacob Lawson. She shuddered to think of the name of her former boss. Seth remained in the wagon as she jumped down. No need to pretend she was a real lady, not in this town.

  “I’ll be over at the Delta.”

  “Suit yourself,” she replied, not overly surprised that the man was seeking the “refuge” of a saloon. “I’ll meet you there in a few hours.”

  Again, he nodded, and then he left her there. Instead of stepping into the general store –she’d visit there before she left – she headed for the Bucket of Blood, another saloon. Scattered whistles and cheers welcomed her, and she was pleased that there were still some regulars who remembered her. To be recognized and appreciated, in whatever way she could get, was a small happiness she couldn’t seem to deny herself.

  A tall man named Duncan waved her over. “Come sit with me, Sally. I’ll buy ya a drink.”

  “You still dance like an angel, Sally-girl?” called another.

  “Things haven’t changed that much since I’ve been gone, have they, boys? Surely you don’t doubt my abilities?”

  The words flowed too easily from her mouth. She shouldn’t be here, and yet she knew she’d never get another dance with Joe. Why not enjoy a couple of turns about the saloon, just to release some of her tension and worries?

  “So, who wants to go first?”

  “I do.”

  She spun around, desperate to discover that her ears were lying to her. They weren’t.

  Rufus O’Daniel stood in the doorway, his dark brown hair and hazel eyes handsome, but terrifying. There was something about the way his tall form blocked out the light from outside…the way his burning gaze never left her body…the way he managed to stand like the distinguished, stubborn man he was and yet still look slightly bent over, like a mountain lion that had just locked eyes on his prey. She couldn’t look away, and she knew there was no way she could outrun his influence. He had been stalking her, hadn’t he? And now she didn’t have the strength to flee.

  None of the other boys protested. If they were in the saloon at this daylight hour, they were in no shape to fight, even if they wanted to, and no one ever wanted to fight with Rufus O’Daniel.

  Bert was at his usual spot at the piano, so he started up a tune. As soon as he started slowly moving his hands across the keys, Sally wished for a faster song, but it was not to be.

  Her nightmare pushed her across the room and his grip propelled her toward the dance floor – the space with no tables or chairs – by the piano. His hands locked on her waist, and his glare forced her own hands up to lock behind his neck, which she could just reach without stretching.

  Trapped with no key, no escape.

  Swaying to the out-of-tune piano music, she longed for Joe. Unfortunately, he was back at the ranch, probably grateful for a day without her.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  How was it possible that his voice once gave her hope for the future? Such false hope…

  She cleared her throat. “Mr. O’Daniel, I…”

  “Rufus,” he growled.

  Licking her lips, she whispered, “Rufus, I think you should know that a lot has changed since I left here several months ago.”

  With quick movements, he twirled her to his side, her arms tangled in front of her. The side-by-side dance with Rufus had once thrilled her, made her think that maybe she had come to Virginia City for greater things than some poor farm boy with elusive, gold-dust dreams. In the end, the hard, cold realities of Rufus’s golden dreams made her long for Jack even more.

  “Don’t think I’m not aware of what you’ve been up to.” His harsh words pelted her ear as he hovered over her, never missing a step. “You’re a foolish girl. Did you really believe that he would want you back? And did you really think that this new marriage scheme of yours would make you happy?”

  She winced as he swung her out and pulled her back to him with force, looking down at her with a little grin. “Are you happy, my angel?”

  Why was it so difficult to look away, to tell him she was just fine and he should leave her alone? She was lost, scared of burning the bridge between her and this man who alternately charmed her and haunted her, whose wealth would ensure th
at she would never be stuck without alternative again. What if things didn’t work out with Joe? What if he abandoned her, went east to find Elizabeth or west to find some other decent girl? What if Rufus O’Daniel were her only hope? It was a possibility she couldn’t seem to ignore.

  She lowered her gaze. “No.”

  “Speak up, Sally. Are you happy?”

  Late nights weeping quietly, wanting Joe to hold her. Days filled with arguments and – even worse – painful silence. Constantly ignored since the moment she said, “I do.” And memories of Jack’s happiness following her around the ranch like a pitiful stray who just didn’t know, or care, that he wasn’t welcome.

  With a bit more conviction, she told him, “No, I’m not happy, Rufus.”

  For a moment, as he dipped her to the last strains of the bawdy tune, his eyes were warm with satisfaction. “I’m not surprised,” was all he said. But in those words and in his eyes was a suggestion that he held claim to her happiness.

  For a moment, she wondered, Does he?

  And then another shadow appeared in the doorway.

  Chapter 15

  He hardly looked like an angel, seeing as how he was most likely drunk and certainly shadowed by an earthly grief. But the sudden relief of a familiar face was enough to lift Sally’s heart and give her the strength to push away from Rufus.

  “Seth! Are you ready to go?”

  The darkness of the saloon and his untrimmed beard hid most of his expression from her, but confusion noticeably flickered across his face. His gaze went from her to Rufus to the bar, and Sally realized that he hadn’t come here intending to rescue her – he was just hopping from saloon to saloon. He wanted a drink, not trouble.

  Rufus stepped around Sally and smiled smugly. “Well, if it isn’t Seth Clifton. It looks as if you could use a drink.” He stepped toward the bar, apparently confident that Seth would follow. He snagged Sally with an arm around her waist, dragging her along with him and plopping her down on his lap after gracefully taking a seat on a stool.

  Sure enough, Seth soon took the stool next to them, his stare vacant as he perused the glass bottles along the wall.

  “What will it be, Mr. Clifton?” Rufus gestured toward the shelves. Sally imagined she could fill the one Seth would empty with tears of frustration and fear.

  “Seth?” She whispered the name, even though she was sure the handful of people in the building could hear every word. “Let’s go home. I’ll fix us supper.”

  Rufus laughed and tightened his grip. “There’s no need to rush off. Plenty of daylight left. We’ve hardly had a chance to catch up.”

  Seth traced his finger around a whorl in the wood of the counter. His lowered brows and dark hair in need of a trim hid his expression when he finally looked up and signaled the bartender. “Whiskey.”

  There’d be no help from Seth. She struggled against Rufus’s hold. “Please, Rufus, I need to get home.”

  He didn’t spare her a glance or lessen his hold as he talked with Seth and the bartender. Sally glanced around the room, praying that one of the men would stand up for her. Only Duncan met her gaze, and even he quickly got to his feet, downed the rest of his drink, and left.

  Maybe she should just relax. But how could she when it felt like she was being held prisoner? No, if Rufus were the answer to her happiness, he wouldn’t make her feel trapped. He would set her free.

  Tears filled her eyes, and she suddenly had the urge to knock over every single one of the bottles on the wall and watch them fall to the floor in floods of poison and broken shards. The only glass within easy reach was Rufus’s…

  Seizing the glass he had just set down, she turned and smashed it against his older, still handsome face.

  The shock sent him backward off the stool, crashing into a nearby table with Sally still in his grip.

  Seth jumped off his stool, his mouth agape. The rest of the men in the room stood and stared. But Sally’s gaze was fixated on Rufus’s face – on the blood dripping from his temple and a cut on his cheek. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the blood. She followed the trek of one little drop that left a trail down to the corner of his mouth, where it became a part of his lips that sneered and demanded, cajoled and seduced. Her vision blurred, and suddenly his lips were bleeding and his face was a pool of blood. She was drowning…

  ***

  After a quick stop in the general store to pick up some food stuffs and a few other supplies – including a bolt of soft green cloth he couldn’t resist buying for Sally – he had gone to the livery to pay for the use of a horse. He was on his way out of town when the sound of a crash turned his head.

  Normally the sounds of a brawl emanating from the Bucket of Blood were nothing to cause someone to stop and ponder. It was the middle of the day, however, and he had been on the alert for any signs of trouble ever since he stepped off the train half an hour ago.

  Don’t go stickin’ yer nose into places it don’t belong – there’s a lad. Just leave the rascals alone. No sense gettin’ involved.

  Such thoughts did little good against curiosity. He gave in to the urge to investigate, which was easy enough with his nerves already on edge. As he slid out of the saddle and tied the reins to the hitching rail, he promised himself one peek and then he would be gone.

  The promise fled as soon as he glimpsed Sally on the saloon floor in a man’s arms, surrounded by splintered pieces of wood. Not just any man’s arms – Rufus O’Daniel’s. And there was blood.

  That blood seemed to fill his entire vision until all he saw was red.

  Marching into the saloon, he made a quick scan of the room. Everyone seemed to be in a daze, including a man he was pretty sure he recognized as Joe’s brother. He knelt next to the couple on the floor and reached out to pull Sally up. She pushed him away with a cry, scooting back from the unconscious O’Daniel and bursting into sobs.

  “Sally, lass, come here. I’ll take ye home.” It was painfully difficult to keep his voice calm, when all he wanted to do was shout at the men who’d let something like this happen – whatever it was that had happened.

  Her crying increased in volume, and he suddenly realized that there was blood on her hands and arms. How bad were her injuries?

  Easing closer to her, he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, swallowing loudly at the brokenness of this lovely young woman. When she didn’t lash out again, he pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his chest.

  The man whom he thought was Joe’s brother stared at them, shaking. Myghal nodded to him. “Seth, right? Were ya the one who brought the lass here?”

  Seth didn’t respond, looking down on O’Daniel like he expected the man to rise up at any moment and attack him.

  “Seth.” Myghal bumped the man with his shoulder, careful not to jostle Sally too much. “Go and fetch the wagon, or horses, or whate’er ye came here in.”

  Another bump with his hip brought the man’s tortured gaze to his. Slowly, it dropped down to Sally. Passing a hand over his face, he finally went out to do as Myghal bid.

  None of the other men said anything as he followed Seth out the doorway and into the street. When he paused on the wooden sidewalk, Sally shivered in his arms. He bent protectively over her. “’Tis all right, lass.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze or acknowledge his words, and Myghal worried that perhaps she had hit her head in what must have been a rather bad fall.

  “Hurry up, Seth,” he muttered. Perhaps the man had run off instead of doing what he was asked. Who knew if Seth could even think straight at the moment? He was obviously drunk.

  When Myghal shifted Sally’s weight to get a better grip, she clutched his shirt in tight fists and pressed her head to his shoulder, as though she feared he would let go.

  “Nothin’ to fear. I’ve got ye.”

  His soothing words made her relax her grip, but she still wouldn’t look up.

  A wagon rolled in their direction, and Myghal sighed in relief. As soon as Seth brough
t the wagon close, he lifted Sally toward the seat. She clung to him tighter and whimpered.

  He heaved a sigh. “I have to drive the wagon, and I cain’t do it while holdin’ ye. But I promise yer safe now, and we’ll take good care of ya when we get to the ranch.”

  “I can drive.” Seth stayed where he was on the seat, looking straight ahead but giving a slight nod as if to assure Myghal he was sober enough to handle the task.

  It was ridiculous to think of letting a drunken man drive the wagon down the steep path into the canyon, but he nodded back, regardless. Prying Sally’s hands from his shirt, he placed her on the seat next to Seth, then made quick work of tying his horse’s reins to the back of the wagon and joining Sally. With her tucked into his arms once again, they set off for the ranch, Myghal whispering prayers for safety.

  ***

  Marriage was far from being the safe place for his heart Joe had always hoped for. What had he been thinking, marrying a girl like Sally? He hated himself for wondering how different it would have been if Elizabeth had married him, but every time his mind wandered to the argument he had with Sally this morning, his mind automatically sidetracked to Elizabeth. Her gentle ways, her innocent smile, the way her hair almost shone red in the desert sunlight…

  Shaking his head to clear it, he went back to cooking supper. Forget Sally and Seth being home in time for the meal. They were probably having a grand, carefree outing.

  The sound of the wagon rumbling toward the house did little to make him feel better. So they were back. He wasn’t going to wait for them to care for the horses and wash up before he started eating. Let them take care of themselves. He was through with trying to rescue everyone.

  He plunked a plate down on the table and dropped into his seat, his fork poised to take his first bite of beans, when the door burst open. Joe jumped to his feet and dropped his fork with a clatter, startled to see Myghal in the doorway, holding a sleeping Sally in his arms.