Becoming Miss Becky

by Shannon Stacey

  “I’ll never let anybody take you away from me,” he said against her mouth.

  “I love you, Adam,” she whispered, and his tenuous grip on self-control was lost.

  He thrust into her, filling her with his seed while she cried his name and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. When her body ceased shuddering he tightened his arms around her and carried her back to the desk. She flipped her skirt back down and he kissed her again while tucking himself back in his trousers.

  It wasn’t until he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face that he realized she did, in fact, look like the little mouse he’d met that first day.

  “Why are you dressed like that?”

  She smiled, a natural blush coloring her cheeks, and slid off the desk. “I was coming to see you before…before Lucas’s men came. I was hoping it wasn’t too late.”

  “You know, you were right. That dress is ugly, and it doesn’t suit you.”

  Becky put her hands on her hips and gave him a scowl to rival even his darkest. “So you don’t like the pretty dresses and you don’t like the plain dresses. I’m starting to think you’re too hard a man to please, Adam Caldwell, and I’m through with trying. You, sir, can go to hell.”

  She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “Too late for what?”

  “Too late for us.”

  Frustration and hope made Adam’s insides clench. “You know I’m not much for conversation, little mouse. Just say what you want straight out.”

  She met his gaze, but he didn’t miss the little quiver in her naked mouth. “I love you and I want to be your wife.”

  The words seemed to flow right into his body, spreading warmth, until he wanted he wanted to run up and down the street like a drunken fool, yelling to the world he was going to marry Rebecca Hamilton.

  But there was something amiss. Just a hint of a shadow of sadness behind her eyes that gave him pause. He ran a fingertip down her pale, unpainted face and fingered the collar of the gray dress. “Is this really what you want, Rebecca?”

  “I really want you.”

  And she was willing to give up a part of her life that brought her joy to have him. He drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do about that.

  “You don’t seem thrilled at the prospect,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “I am, honey, I just…this isn’t who you really are. You’re trying to be the old you to please me and that ain’t no way to spend the rest of your life.”

  She slipped out of his arms and smoothed her hair back from her face. “You told me I had to choose, Adam. And I’ve chosen. And now…now this isn’t what you want, either.”

  “I want you, little mouse. Don’t you doubt that for a second. But not if the price you pay is too high.”

  He watched her eyes tearing up and swore in his mind. He knew he’d ruined this moment and he had no idea how to fix it.

  When she turned and started walking toward the door, he was suddenly afraid if she walked out, he’d never get the chance to try. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. “You’re not leaving until we figure this out.”

  “I have it figured out. You’re the one who keeps changing the rules, and I’m tired of it. Now let me go.”

  “No.” At a total loss for what to do, he did the only thing he could think of to keep her from leaving.

  He locked her in one of the cells and put the key in his pocket. “I need to go check on Guapo.”

  Becky refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her throw a fit, but she threw one after he walked out the door to check on his horse. Unfortunately, shaking cell bars and kicking the cot didn’t do anything to ease her frustration. Or her humiliation.

  She’d told the man she loved him and he’d thrown her in jail while the heat of their urgent lovemaking still tingled between her thighs.

  Even without the chickens’ counsel she knew that wasn’t how the moment was supposed to go. He was supposed to kiss her and spin her around and tell her he loved her, too.

  Bastard.

  With nothing else to do, Becky curled up on the narrow cot and pulled the coarse blanket up over her head. It was about as far from her fancy bed as one could get without sleeping on the ground, but she didn’t care. After being kidnapped, throwing herself off a moving horse, being taken up against a wall and topping it all off with incarceration, exhaustion was starting to creep in.

  When the door opened a few minutes later, she didn’t bother to lift her head to see who it was. If it was Lucas Kilraine he’d need a key to get to her. If it was Adam she was going to ignore him, quite possibly for the rest of her life.

  “I brought you some food,” Eliza Jane said. “When you didn’t come out with him, I thought maybe you were hiding in here and would be hungry. I didn’t expect you to be locked up.”

  The savory smell of beef and a friend to talk to brought Becky out from under the covers. “I don’t suppose you or Will has an extra key to this door.”

  “No, sorry.” She passed the tray of food through the slot to Becky. “I got that from Marguerite, so dig in.

  With no table or chair, she was forced to sit on the edge of the cot and balance the tray on her knees, but she didn’t mind. Until she smelled the stew, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Eliza Jane asked, making herself comfortable in Adam’s chair.

  “I turned myself back into boring Rebecca like he wanted, told him I love him and want to marry him, then he said he doesn’t like boring Rebecca and locked me in here when I tried to leave.”

  To her surprise the other woman laughed. “That sounds like Adam.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “My guess is that he needs a little time to sort out what he’s feeling and he was afraid you’d run off before he got it figured out. He’s not good with words.”

  That was an understatement. Becky shrugged off the subject so she could eat. The stew was far too delicious to be accompanied by thoughts of Adam Caldwell.

  She ate while Eliza Jane rummaged through Adam’s desk drawers and kept up a running monologue regarding Will’s less than enthusiastic reaction to her being thrown in jail after tousling in the street with Lucy Barnes like a schoolgirl.

  “He thinks I should have minded my own business to start with,” she said. “And he thinks I should apologize to her for what I said about Beth Ann. Can you imagine? She’s the one who brought children into it, and what I said was the God’s honest truth.”

  “I’m the one who should apologize. My making a spectacle of myself is what got her upset to begin with. And rightly so, I might add.”

  “If you’re thinking about apologizing to that woman, I’m going to put these back in their hiding place,” Eliza Jane said and Becky looked up to see her dangling a small ring of keys from her finger. “I think we should head over to the Coop and have some of that tea.”

  “I can’t let you break me out of here. While I don’t think I’m really under arrest, I don’t want Adam to be angry with you.”

  “He won’t shoot me. He holds my husband in too high a regard for that.”

  “In his current mood I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  Eliza Jane only shrugged and started trying the keys in the cell door. “I held a shotgun on Adam Caldwell not so long ago and threatened to blow him out of his boots.”

  “Fiona told me about that,” Becky said, “and, knowing Adam, I almost didn’t believe her.”

  “It’s true, and if he didn’t shoot me for that, he won’t shoot me for this. To be honest, he probably won’t even be surprised to find you gone.”

  Will and Johnny Barnes were both leaned up against Guapo’s stall door, shooting the breeze, when Adam walked in. His frustration with Rebecca must have shown on his face because Johnny beat it after a quick nod, leaving the doctor to face him alone.

  “How’s Becky?” Wi
ll asked.

  “Locked up in a cell. How’s my horse?”

  “Better off than your woman from the sound.”

  Adam sighed and reached over the stall door to scratch between Guapo’s ears. The horse turned his head to butt it against his palm until Adam coughed up the sugar cube he had in his other hand. “My horse ain’t a pain in the ass.”

  “Being a pain in the ass ain’t a crime,” Will pointed out. “And Guapo’s going to be fine, I think, with enough rest. Johnny’s going to go walk him a little extra in the next few weeks because you need to stay off him.”

  “Whatever he needs, Doc.”

  “Mostly rest. I’ll check in on him a couple of times a day and, like I said, Johnny’s going to keep a close eye on him. But right now, I’m going to find Eliza Jane and see if she’ll wash my back.”

  Adam waited until Will was gone before he opened the stall door and stepped inside. He ran a hand down Guapo’s neck, letting it come to rest on the horse’s shoulder. “Thank you for getting me to her in time, old friend. I don’t know what I’d have done if I lost her.”

  Guapo gave him a baleful stare and snorted.

  “Yeah, I know I’m not doing a very good job of keeping her for somebody who doesn’t want to lose her, but I got so hell-bent on her making me happy I lost sight of what makes her happy.” He grabbed the brush off the peg and set about giving Guapo a good grooming while sharing his woes.

  He was confessing his stupidity at locking Rebecca in the cell when Will returned, looking a little apprehensive. Adam hung up the brush and left the stall, giving Guapo a pat on his way out.

  “When you said you locked Becky up, was she actually under arrest or did you put her there for safekeeping?”

  Hellfire. He should have hidden the spare keys better. “I put her there so she’d stay put while I figured out what to say to her.”

  “I came to tell you my wife busted her out.”

  Adam laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know which of us has it worse when it comes to the women.”

  Will grinned and slapped Adam’s shoulder. “I haven’t had to throw mine behind bars in order to have a conversation with her.”

  “Maybe not, but yours announced to a saloon full of men you like her to ride you like a horse.”

  “Let’s call it a draw,” Will mumbled. “And let’s go find some coffee.”

  “Sure thing,” Adam said, giving Guapo a final scratch between the ears and an extra sugar cube for good measure. “Giddy up, Doc.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The first thing Adam did the next morning was send a note to the Coop letting Rebecca know if she ventured outside without him, Will or an armed Fiona with her, he’d lock her up again.

  If one thing had become crystal clear to him, it was the fact she wasn’t wrong about Lucas Kilraine not letting her go, but if the man tried to swoop her up off the street again, he was going to find himself full of lead.

  After making sure Rebecca was taken care of, he set about sending telegrams to sheriffs and marshals all over Texas letting them know he was after Kilraine. He wanted to know where the son of a bitch was.

  When his door opened, he didn’t bother to look up from his desk, assuming it was Will come to share a cup of what Adam passed off as coffee.

  “Good morning, Sheriff,” his visitor said, and it sure as hell wasn’t the doctor. Eliza Jane sat in the chair across the desk from his and straightened her skirts. “I hope you don’t mind some company this morning.”

  “I reckon that depends on what kind of trouble you intend to be causing.”

  Her cheeks colored and she cleared her throat. “Hopefully not the kind that will get me arrested. I’ve actually come to involve myself in your private affairs.”

  “You’re the last person I want in my private affairs,” he replied, even though it wasn’t precisely true. Even a damn women’s libber was better than having Lucy Barnes minding his business.

  “It’s becoming painfully obvious you and Becky aren’t going to muddle through your relationship difficulties without help.”

  “Last time you tried to help somebody with relationship difficulties Dandy Thayer whacked her husband in the head with a rolling pin.”

  “Best thing that ever happened to that relationship, but hardly relevant.”

  Adam leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. One thing he’d learned about Eliza Jane Martinson—if he didn’t at least let her have her say, she’d hound him into an early grave.

  “You told her she’d have to give up being Miss Becky and go back to being plain before you’d marry her,” she started.

  “I also explained to her why. I don’t have the tolerance for bearing men ogling my wife. Hell, two men already mistook her for a whore. One of them got a split lip and the other’s dead.”

  “Then, when she went back to being plain, you told her you didn’t like that either, locked her in a cell and went off to see your horse.”

  “I probably could have handled that better,” he admitted. “And it wasn’t that I didn’t like it. I could see she didn’t like it.”

  Eliza Jane nodded, smiling. “So you see that, other than your rejection, she’s happy being who she is and you know she couldn’t be truly happy if she changes herself for you.”

  “I reckon so.”

  She leaned in for the kill. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  As he had many times in the past, Adam reminded himself a man couldn’t shoot his friend’s woman. It just wasn’t right. “Listen to you talk me to death, it seems.”

  “If my talking could kill you, you’d have gone boots up a long time ago, so stop trying to change the subject.”

  “I’m not trying to change the subject. I’m trying to make you go away.”

  “It hasn’t worked yet.” She sighed and rested her elbows on his desk. “You have to decide what you want from Becky before she can know if she’s willing to give it to you.”

  “I just want her.” And just like that it was settled in Adam’s mind. “I just want her to be my wife, even if it comes with feathers in her hair and face paint on my pillow. And if I have to spend the rest of our lives correcting men who mistake her for something she ain’t, then I’ll just have mighty sore knuckles.”

  When Eliza Jane reached out to touch his arm, he was surprised enough to let her. “You have to be sure you can live with that.”

  “The only thing I’m sure of is that being without her is harder than anything.”

  Apparently satisfied she’d accomplished her goal, she stood and smiled down at him. “When are you going to see her?”

  As soon as he figured out the right damn words to say to her so he didn’t mess it up again. “As soon as Lucas Kilraine’s taken care of. I can’t afford any distractions until that man’s six feet under.”

  “Don’t leave it any longer than that. She’s heartbroken enough as it is.”

  “And don’t you go to telling that husband of yours we had this talk. I hear one word from him about spilling my feelings to a woman and I’ll shoot him down where he stands.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Sheriff,” she said, but she was laughing as she closed the door behind her.

  Once Becky made up her mind about what needed to be done, she didn’t leave the Chicken Coop for two days. Since her foiled kidnapping, they’d heard nothing of Lucas, but Adam had spread the word, sending telegraphs to lawmen all over the state. Eliza Jane had told her over morning tea their sheriff was dedicating every waking moment to finding the man.

  It also took that long to make the changes to herself she’d decided to make, even with all of the chickens pitching in to help. After putting the finishing touches on, she walked out into the parlor where they were waiting to see the results.

  “Oh my, you look beautiful, Miss Becky,” Holly said and the other two women nodded in agreement.

  And she still felt beautiful. The four of them had altered her Aunt Adele’s wardrobe, removing the g
audy trimmings and lace, leaving somewhat tasteful dresses in vibrant colors. Some fancy sewing and strategically-placed panels gave the bodices some semblance of modesty.

  With her hair pinned up in a soft and loose chignon, with plenty of soft wisps framing her face, and just a hint of kohl to accent her eyes, Becky thought she might finally have found her true self. She was as bright as an exotic bird, without being quite as bold as the chickens.

  “Let’s hope the sheriff feels the same way,” she said with a slight tremor in her voice. “I guess it’s time to find out.”

  Fiona threw a wrap around her shoulders and grabbed her shotgun. “I’m ready.”

  Becky sighed. The dictate had been handed down by the high-and-mighty sheriff shortly after her jailbreak in the form of a note. Until Kilraine is taken into custody, do not leave the Coop unless in the presence of myself, Will Martinson, or Fiona and her shotgun or I will lock you behind bars again and this time I won’t leave the spare key. A.

  Her first instinct had been to crinkle the note into a ball, walk down the street and shove Adam’s orders down his throat. But wiser voices—namely those of Eliza Jane and Holly—had prevailed. Until Lucas Kilraine was caught, either by Adam or by some other lawman, making herself a target for him endangered not only herself, but the people around her, as well.

  Therefore she walked the entire way to the sheriff’s office with Fiona at her side. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “I’m still not sure what you see in the man, but if he makes you happy, I’ll hope it works, too.”

  Becky paused, took a deep breath and opened the door to Adam’s office. As it swung, she became aware he already had a visitor.

  “He wants me to meet him in the street at four o’clock?” Adam asked the man, and then he laughed and shook his head. “I reckon Lucas Kilraine must have a fondness for bad dime novels.”

  The cold spread through her body so quickly she couldn’t tell where the icy fear first took hold, and she stood, frozen, with her hand on the door.