Wicked Wyoming Nights

by Leigh Greenwood

  There was a moment of awkward silence.

  “I see you’re wearing my presents.”

  Eliza felt her pale skin turn crimson. “I … they’re so pretty … Lucy made me,” she finished, the words wrung from her.

  “I see.” Cord looked a little downcast. “I was hoping you’d worn them because I gave them to you.”

  Eliza would have given anything to be able to vanish into thin air. How could she tell him she had retrieved his presents from Ella’s and was wearing them tonight because they were all she had left of him? “It seemed a shame to leave them in their boxes. And I did need something to wear.”

  “I bought them to give you pleasure, not to keep you from going naked.” The anguish in Cord’s voice cut Eliza to the quick. “But that’s ungrateful of me,” he said with a weak smile. “I should be pleased you’re wearing them at all. You do look magnificent.”

  Eliza felt like the greatest criminal unhung.

  “You look good enough to eat,” Ella Baylis announced in a hearty voice from behind Eliza. “If you don’t dance with Eliza, I’m going to take a chunk out of you.”

  “Please, no,” mumbled Eliza, “I really would rather not.”

  “If you don’t dance with Cord, some old geezer will grab you up,” Ella pointed out. “You might as well dance with the best-looking man here.”

  “I’ll be in the prettiest company” said Cord.

  “You two can argue that between you, but you do make a mighty pretty couple. Now get going before I give you a push.”

  Eliza’s eyes remained on the floor, but she didn’t resist when Cord led her to a corner where a few couples found enough space to dance slowly and rather close together. “I see you came with …”

  “I was hoping to have the chance …” They both had begun at the same time. There was a pause. “Ladies first,” said Cord.

  Eliza appeared reluctant to say anything and lowered her eyes once more. “I was about to say I see you’ve met Iris.”

  “Yeah. Saw her coming out of the saloon and knew she’d dirty her skirts, so I offered her a ride.”

  “Do you think she’s nice?”

  “She seems to be. Not half as pretty as you, though.”

  Eliza didn’t raise her eyes, but she felt herself flush. “She’s popular with the cowboys.”

  “Hmmm,” replied Cord, uninterested in the cowboys’ likes or dislikes. “You ready to start speaking to me again? It’s been nearly three weeks now.” He felt Eliza stiffen.

  “I am speaking to you,” Eliza replied in a tight voice. “But I meant it when I said I couldn’t be engaged to a man who would have my uncle arrested for a stupid prank.”

  “You admit he was guilty now?”

  “Guilty of poor judgment and treating you unfairly, but he’s not a thief, and to say he is in league with a gang of rustlers is absurd.” She had worked herself up to the nearest thing to anger Cord had ever seen.

  “Then I don’t suppose you’re ready to forgive me and announce our engagement?”

  “Of course not,” she said indignantly. “Every time I think of you I remember what you did to my uncle.”

  “Then you do still think of me?” Cord asked, greatly heartened.

  “I meant,” Eliza said, correcting herself and trying to shift the basis of a discussion in which her position was being weakened by every sentence, “I could not marry a man who believes my uncle is a thief.”

  “You’ll soon forget that. Everybody out here is a thief of some kind.”

  “I’m not” answered Eliza hotly.

  “You stole my heart,” he said with simple directness, and Eliza thought she would burst into tears. “You haven’t given it back either.”

  A stifled sob was forced from her. “I would if I could.”

  “I don’t want it. I just want you, and us the way we used to be.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “It will happen. Until then I aim to wait.”

  “Please, excuse me,” she begged, and fled from the room.

  “What did you say to make her run off like that?” demanded Ella, coming up behind him almost immediately. “I thought you had enough sense not to push her too hard.”

  “I just put some burrs under her saddle cloth so she won’t ride too easy.”

  “She’s suffering terribly from divided loyalty. Give her enough time and she’ll come around to you.”

  “I didn’t make the Matador mine in five years without having some sense,” Cord pointed out. “If I give him enough rope, Ira will hang himself. Then she’ll come tumbling into my arms.”

  “Maybe she will and maybe she won’t,” Ella warned. “There are ways to do things, and if you’ll take my advice, you’ll do nothing. Time is on your side. Girls like Eliza think funny sometimes, and if you do the wrong thing you might lose her forever”

  “I promise I won’t do anything stupid.”

  But less than thirty minutes later Ella could have brained him with relish. Eliza had returned from the bedroom, a little limp, but still looking magnificent. She was clearly unhappy and her eyes kept wandering to Cord as he moved about the room. They were merely jealous when he talked with other women, tolerant when he was once more corralled by Melissa with the help of her mother, but when a conversation with Iris broke into laughter and showed no sign of ending, they turned to molten coals.

  “I’ve never seen Cord laugh,” a matron said loud enough for Eliza to overhear.

  “Mrs. O’Sullivan seems to be a charming lady. It’s a shame she has to work in a saloon to support her little girl.” Ella made a mental note to repay both ladies, but the stormy look in Eliza’s face convinced her this was not the moment.

  “Do you think he likes Iris?” Eliza asked Ella when the conversation between Cord and Iris had gone on so long her teeth were on edge.

  “I don’t think he’s had a chance to get to know her vet,” Ella replied with devastating directness, “but if you persist in keeping him at arms’ length, he may find he does.”

  “I wouldn’t think of holding on to a man who might wander at the first inducement.”

  “A man isn’t likely to wander when he has what he wants.” Ella’s eyes followed in the direction of Eliza’s gaze. “Not even for Iris and her darling little girl.”

  Eliza suddenly laughed. “You think Cord would prefer to have his own daughter?”

  “I know he’d prefer to have his own sons, and he wants you to be their mother.”

  “And you don’t think he wants Iris?”

  “Not unless you hand him to her.”

  “I’m not that generous,” Eliza said with the closest thing to a giggle Ella had ever heard.

  “Hallelujah!” Ella almost shouted. “I was ready to think you were going to lie down and let Iris take your man without a fight.”

  “I don’t know what you mean by a fight, but I can’t give Cord up, no matter what he said about Uncle Ira. The way he sees it, Cord was right and I turned my back on him. From any point of view, Uncle Ira was wrong, yet I stood by him.”

  “Why don’t you chuck all this right-and-wrong and standing-by-and-forsaking nonsense and just follow your heart. You love him and you’re never going to be happy unless you marry him.”

  “I know. I discovered that when I saw him laughing with Iris and realized I was jealous because he wasn’t talking and laughing with me.”

  “You know why he isn’t?”

  “You don’t have to tell me. I’ve been a fool, but not anymore. I came too close to losing what I wanted most in the world.”

  Chapter 25

  Eliza was awakened from a sound sleep by a loud, insistent banging. She sat up quickly, fear penetrating the heavy fog of sleep; why would anyone be pounding on her door in the middle of the night unless there were some kind of trouble? She pulled on a heavy robe and fur-lined slippers and tiptoed to her uncle’s room. His bed hadn’t been slept in, yet the clock said ten minutes past four. Where could he be?


  “Who is it?” she called out, apprehensive of who might be on the outside and reluctant to open the door to anyone until she was dressed.

  It’s Cord. Let me in.”

  Eliza’s heart began to pound erratically. She had left Cord at the Burtons’ party only hours earlier. What could he possibly want now? “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I’ve got to see you.”

  “No.”

  “Open this door, or I’ll break it down.”

  “Hush! You’ll have Mr. Blaine up here any minute.”

  “He’s not here. Neither is your uncle. Now open up.”

  Eliza’s hand shook as she took the key off its hook; she had no doubt but what Cord would be as good as his word.

  “What do you want?” Eliza demanded angrily. But Cord’s expression turned her displeasure to apprehension. He was still in the clothes he had worn to the party, but his face was a mask of tightly contained fury.

  “Do you know where your uncle is?” he demanded in a voice that brutally swept aside any concern for Eliza’s embarrassment at being dragged out of bed in a disheveled condition to face an old love still dressed handsomely enough to make any female swoon.

  “He hadn’t come home when I went to bed,” she muttered, trying to pull her distracted thoughts together. Cord’s unbending, unrelenting gaze banished the last traces of sleep, and a cold, unidentified fear gripped Eliza’s heart. “Do you know where he is? Is he hurt?”

  “At this very minute, he, Croley Blaine, and a gang of rustlers are herding freshly weaned Matador calves into a boxed canyon on Sam Haughton’s land.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Eliza gasped, anger rising quickly in her voice as she moved away from him. “Why would he do such a thing?”

  “The same reason as before.”

  “But why would Mr. Blaine be involved? He doesn’t hate you.”

  “Croley is greedy. He’ll never have enough money.”

  Eliza’s mind reeled from the double shock of Cord’s renewed accusations and fear her uncle might be guilty, again!

  “It’s a he!” Eliza was even more stunned than Cord to hear the words come out of her mourn. It hurt to know he thought more of his ranch than he did of her, and she was furious he would attempt to accuse her uncle again, but she had never before doubted he was telling the truth as he saw it. Did she disbelieve him now? Could this mean she no longer loved him? Surely she couldn’t love a man she didn’t trust.

  The idea no sooner occurred man it was banished. Through the fog of confusion and anger her heart shouted its message in loud, unmistakable words: she was hopelessly in love with Cord Stedman and nothing he could do or say would ever change that.

  “It’s not a lie,” Cord assured her, his eyes open and brilliantly intense.

  But something inside of her pushed reason aside and would not let Eliza accept his words. “I loved you, Cord Stedman, more than I ever thought possible. I would have done almost anything for you, but for some reason plain love isn’t enough. You had to try to drive my uncle from me.” Cord tried to make an objection, but Eliza ignored him. “I thought you could ignore his foolish hatred, but now I see you harbor the same kind of senseless need for revenge that has eaten away at him all these years. I’ve lived with that and I’ve seen what it does to people. I couldn’t marry a man like that no matter how much I loved him.”

  “If you’re through talking foolishness, I’d like to say a few words.” Cord’s eyes were hard, but there was no anger in his voice. “I don’t give a damn what your uncle thinks or says. Others say worse and I still sleep at night. I’ve got too much to do to waste time making up lies and trying to get people in trouble, but I won’t allow anybody to rob me of a single calf, no matter what the reason. I was within my rights when I had Ira arrested, and I thought you were honest enough to see that. My boys were itching to break his legs, but I wouldn’t let them because I wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you.” The fire blazing in Cord’s eyes softened momentarily, but almost immediately it flamed forth again, setting Eliza at a distance once more.

  “I love you so much it hurts sometimes, but your stubborn, blind loyalty to a man who has done nothing but exploit you has turned just about everybody against me. It almost cost me my best calves as well. I’ve been so worked up since the trial I haven’t been able to think. It was my boys who found these thieves, not me.”

  “Don’t try to make me feel guilty for honoring my vow,” Eliza said fiercely, her swimming eyes staring up at Cord. “You know nothing about love. Ever since I agreed to marry you, you’ve attacked my uncle and embarrassed me. All you ever think of is that everlasting ranch. You never think of me first or pay attention to anything I say.”

  “You’re just about all I do think about,” Cord said, gripping her by the arms in spite of her efforts to escape him.

  “Let me go,” she said, struggling helplessly against his powerful grip. “I’m not one of your cows to be wrestled to the ground and branded as your property.” But Cord was so intoxicated by the feel of Eliza in his arms he barely heard her words; he could only think of the need that had been tearing at his insides for weeks, a need that only she could satisfy.

  “I’ve ached to hold you in my arms.”

  “I don’t want you to hold me.”

  But Cord pulled her closer to him. His lips were only inches away from hers and the feel of his body all along the length of hers was maddening. Eliza’s struggles grew weaker as his lips found hers and his tongue invaded her mouth; they stopped altogether when his hands pushed her robe off her shoulders, revealing her white, satiny shoulders to his hot gaze. His lips trailed kisses along her neck, his teeth nibbled at her ear, and his hands found her breasts. A moan escaped him, and he suddenly picked her up and started toward the bedroom.

  “Stop!” she protested. “Put me down, or I’ll scream.”

  “Just thinking about making love to you causes me to break out in a cold sweat,” Cord groaned. “Having you so close is killing me.” He kicked open the door and carried Eliza over to the bed.

  “I won’t be loved by a man who accuses my uncle of infamous crimes,” she panted, feeling desire for Cord threaten her control.

  “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind day or night.” He lowered her to the bed and dropped down beside her.

  “I’ll not be forced!”

  Cord’s body froze, the mask of desire hardening into one of scorn. “I don’t need to force you,” he snarled. “I can buy what you have to give.” Eliza felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her.

  “Get out,” she spat. “I don’t want to ever see you again!”

  Cord came to a swift decision. “Get dressed, and put on the warmest clothes you have. You’ve got a long drive ahead, and it’s very cold.”

  “Drive where?” Eliza demanded.

  “We’re going to the Matador. I’m going to show you what your uncle is doing.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Eliza said backing away. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Put your clothes on, or I’ll do it for you,” Cord commanded in a voice that caused Eliza’s resistance to evaporate. “I’ll give you five minutes.” He stalked past her door and slammed it behind him.

  Eliza felt like she’d been knocked down and trampled on. That Cord, the only man who’d ever valued her for herself and who had beguiled her into giving him her love, could betray her so easily, could pursue her public humiliation so remorselessly, shattered her illusions of the perfection of love. It was a black hell filled with unsolved conflict, unquenched need, and unfulfilled longing. It was chaos, a chilling betrayal that was much more devastating than loneliness could ever be; it was a brutally swift ending to her fledgling flight of happiness, and Eliza felt empty of all that had given her hope and new life. She blindly and mechanically picked out her clothes and put them on.

  How could you die and not feel the pain? Did it come later when you had time to assess your loss, or was this wh
at death really was, a feeling of nothingness? Did dreams always come crashing down in a stupefying void of utter silence? Could illusions be banished without one final piercing shriek of protest?

  Eliza’s brain was too numb to think, but she would have answers. Six months ago she would have meekly accepted her fate, but since then she had glimpsed the Elysian Fields where love dwelled, and she could never again settle for anything less than paradise.

  “I think you should know I don’t intend to believe anything you show me,” Eliza stated defiantly as she settled into the buggy next to Cord, acutely aware of his harsh, uncompromising posture. Why was she saying these hateful words? Why must she lash out at the one person she needed and desired above all others? Was she too afflicted with an insane craving for revenge?

  “Do you have a brand?” The cold night air cut into Eliza’s soft skin as Cord drove his horses forward at a dangerous gallop.

  “Of course not. What would I want with a brand when I don’t even own a milk cow?”

  There’s a brand in your name, or rather in the name of Belle Sage. It was registered this past month.”

  “But I didn’t do it. You’ve got to believe me.”

  “I do. You’re still underage.” A fleeting warmth vanished. It wasn’t faith, just cold facts, that made Cord believe her.

  “But you will admit it’s an odd occurrence for a woman who owns no land and runs no cows to have a brand. And there’s something else strange about that brand. It’s remarkably similar to the Matador brand. In fact, if you put your brand over mine, mine disappears altogether.”

  “Do you mean someone could put my brand on your calves and no one could tell?”

  “That’s about it.” Eliza could not doubt his words.

  “Why?”

  “To make stealing easier. I’ve known for some time rustlers were systematically working this part of Wyoming. They either skin the beef and sell the meat to miners and construction crews, or they rebrand them and sell them to other ranchers. They haven’t come up with a way to get around me and the boys yet, but they’ve been after my herds from the first.”