Desperado

by Lisa Bingham

  His chest rumbled with laughter. “Pun intended?”

  Her cheeks raged with sudden heat. But then, feeling daring, she drew back to meet his gaze.

  “Pun intended.”

  He pulled her up so that his lips could brush against hers, once, twice. For a moment, his tongue plunged into her mouth for a quick, fierce caress. Then he drew back again, his eyes closing. “Sorry, hon’. Too damned tired.”

  But P.D. didn’t mind a bit. She rested her head against his chest again, hearing the thump, thump of his heart, then the almost imperceptible snore as he fell asleep.

  Then she let her own eyes close, her lips settling into a satisfied smile.

  *

  THEY were awakened by a discreet cough.

  P.D. started, abruptly becoming aware of her surroundings. She shook Elam.

  “We’re here.” Her voice was husky from sleep.

  “Where exactly?” he mumbled.

  “I don’t know.”

  She shook him again and this time he opened his eyes. “What do you suppose we have to do now? Bear baiting? Rattlesnake taming?” He scrubbed at his face. “What I wouldn’t give for a few hours of interrupted sleep.”

  “Don’t you mean uninterrupted?”

  His gaze held hers, becoming suddenly hot. “Not exactly.”

  He stooped to make his way out of the door, then turned to help P.D. to descend as well. But it wasn’t until she was on the ground and looked up that P.D. noticed the smattering of applause and saw that an impromptu welcoming committee was waiting for them.

  “Welcome to the twenty-first century!” Helen exclaimed, rushing forward to enfold P.D. in a hug. “My lands, you two look like you’ve been through the wars.”

  Behind Helen, Syd reached out to shake Elam’s hand, and Elam’s brothers yanked him close for hugs and exuberant slaps on the back.

  “Did you win, Elam?” Barry demanded, good-naturedly succumbing to a hair ruffling from his older brother.

  “I don’t know, Barry. There’s still one more day of the contest.”

  P.D. regarded the fairgrounds teaming with people. Fairy lights had been strung over the bandstand a few yards away and a country-western group was crooning a ballad. Couples wound an intricate circle around the dance floor while children dodged in and out of the bleachers. The night air was rich with the smells of fried foods, cotton candy, and roasting meats, while various charities offered handmade goods or arcade games to raise money for community causes.

  A contest official strode forward, glancing at his watch and noting a time on his clipboard. Then he extended the familiar yellow envelope.

  The sight of it was enough to make a lump settle into the pit of P.D.’s stomach.

  “Congratulations to you both,” the man said. “And thanks again for your help in taking care of Jennifer Tompkins. Latest word from the hospital is that she’s resting comfortably, but they’re keeping her overnight. She’s pretty dehydrated and the head wound is looking a little more serious than first supposed. It’s a lucky thing that you found her when you did. You were one of the last groups to check off that particular challenge. If not for you, it could have been hours before she got the help she needed.” He touched his hat and backed away. “We’ll see you two tomorrow.”

  With that, he turned to disappear into the crowd again.

  “What’s next?” P.D. asked.

  Elam ripped open one side of the envelope and pulled the contents free. But this time, rather than a typed piece of paper, there was a heavy vellum announcement and two hotel key cards.

  “What the hell?”

  P.D. leaned close to see that the announcement was an invitation to the Cattle Barons’ Ball and Awards Banquet at the Serenity Resort. Rather than another full day of events, their last challenge would be the costume contest. In the meantime, the resort was giving the finishing contestants complimentary rooms to rest and recover from their efforts.

  “Holy cow!” P.D. breathed. The Serenity Resort was a chi-chi-pooh-pooh, five-hundred-dollar-a-night resort, which had recently opened several miles up Liberty Canyon. P.D. had always wanted a peek inside one of their little guest houses.

  But Elam was distracted by their challenge. “A costume contest,” he said in disbelief. “That’s it? We don’t have to … I don’t know … weave our own cloth on a loom or something?” He checked the back of the invitation just to be sure.

  “Happily, no.” Helen grinned. “Your costumes are ready to go. The banquet isn’t until seven tomorrow night, so I’ll bring both of your outfits to your rooms around four or five.”

  Elam grimaced. “It’s going to take two hours to put on a pair of pants and a string tie?”

  Helen patted his cheek. “Honey, if that’s all you want to wear, be my guest.”

  P.D. was still trying to wrap her weary mind around the information bombarding her. “But … what are we supposed to do? Walk to the hotel? Ride?”

  Bodey squeezed her arm. “P.D., you’re done with all that,” he said gently. “There’s nothing left to do but show up at the dance.”

  “But the keys are for … sleeping? That’s it?”

  “Well, you and Elam could—”

  Before Bodey could finish whatever he’d been about to say, Elam abruptly turned, and somehow, his elbow hit Bodey square in the gut.

  “Sorry, Bode. Didn’t know you were so close.”

  This time it was Jace’s turn to snicker.

  “Come tomorrow, you’ll be glad you have a room on-site,” Helen said. “Believe me, getting to the Awards Banquet en regalia isn’t that easy in your average vehicle. Most of the attendees to the Awards Ceremony are already booked into the Resort. The place is sold out, despite being pricey.” Her eyes twinkled. “Syd and I are staying in the Safari Bungalow.” Leaning close to P.D., she murmured, “I’m planning on bagging a tiger tonight.”

  P.D. snorted, then smothered her laughter when Elam glanced her way.

  Helen hugged her again, then rose up on tiptoe to kiss Elam on the cheek. “You two go have a good night’s sleep. You’ve earned it. Syd and I will gather up your gear and your weapons and Jace can take them back to the Big House. You two enjoy the rest of the evening.”

  With great relief, P.D. removed her holsters and handed them to Syd. Having the heavy weight lifted away offered an immediate sense of relief.

  Bodey reached to enfold P.D. in a hug as well. “Just so you know, the contractor and his men put up Sheetrock yesterday. Things are proceeding ahead of schedule. They’re hoping to start painting the first of next week, but they want you to take a look at things first. He said he’ll meet you at Vern’s at eight Monday morning. Let him know if that’s too early.”

  He slapped Elam on the back. “Everything at your place, on the other hand, is supposedly done. Jace and I gathered a fresh change of clothes, your dainties, and your shaving gear, and put them in a bag in the back of your truck. P.D., Helen couldn’t get into your house. Said it was locked.” His brows rose to his hairline. “But Jace, being the little safecracker that he is”—Jace rolled his eyes—“managed to get in through one of the windows. He unlocked the front door, since Helen refused to climb in through the window for some reason. Anyway, she put together some things for you as well. So there’s no reason for you both not to enjoy the free rooms and the endless supply of hot water.” He threw Elam his keys. “The Ram’s parked over by the sale barns.”

  “Can we go get an elephant ear now?” Barry asked, his tone indicating that he’d been about as patient as he planned on being and he was ready for one of the supersized fried scones.

  “Sure, let’s go.” Jace touched his hat with a finger. “’Night, you two. Good work.”

  They’d gone only a few steps when Barry turned, still walking backward. “Bodey, come on!”

  “The master has spoken. Great job, you two. We’ll see you tomorrow for the results.” He jogged ahead to catch up to Barry, but turned at the last minute to shout, “Make sure you’re e
xtra purty, Elam! You’ll need it with that ugly mug of yours!”

  Elam opened his mouth to retort, caught P.D.’s gaze, and changed his mind.

  “Go ahead,” she urged.

  “I probably shouldn’t. There are innocent ears around.”

  One of her brows arched. “Like who’s?”

  “Barry’s.”

  P.D. laughed.

  “You wanna stick around?” Elam said, gesturing to the crowd.

  “Actually?” She thought about it only a moment. “No.”

  He pocketed the invitation and the hotel keys and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Shall we?”

  They began ambling away from the crowd toward the parking area.

  “Do you want to drop by Vern’s?”

  Vern’s.

  Only days ago, her entire world had revolved around Vern’s. She’d lived and sometimes slept there. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a day off, let alone a vacation. Six days a week, fourteen hours a day. Even after she’d trained her staff and her manager to work independently of her, she poured all her time and energy into her business. It was even her sole reason for joining the Games. She’d been intent on winning that prize money so that Vern’s could recover and return in better shape than ever.

  But somehow, in the last few days, things had changed. She’d begun to realize that, although nurturing her restaurant was satisfying, it couldn’t be her only sense of fulfillment. She had lots of good, loyal employees. Maybe it was time she started letting them take over now and again.

  “No, I’ll wait until Monday.” And since her answer was surprising to her as well as to Elam, she added, “It’s dark and who knows if there’s any lighting installed. Plus …” She grimaced. “We’ve been living so long in the nineteenth century, I’m finding it hard to return to the real world.”

  He squeezed her shoulder to show he understood. “As long as that doesn’t apply to our transportation, because I’m not walking to Serenity.”

  Elam tapped the button on his key fob and the truck lights flashed, showing them where it had been backed into a space. After opening the driver’s door, Elam helped P.D. slide inside. Then, after a glance in the bed, he climbed in behind her.

  “Somehow, I think Helen did a better job of packing for you than my brothers did for me.”

  P.D. yawned. “It’s not like you need a whole lot. Men are spoiled that way.”

  “We are, huh?” he asked as he started the truck.

  P.D. didn’t think she’d ever heard a more wonderful sound than the low throb of the engine. And when cool, air-conditioned air blew onto her cheeks, she sighed in delight. “I take it back. I really, really like the twenty-first century. All I need now is a couple of days in a hot tub and a week of sleep.”

  “Amen to that,” Elam said with a kiss to the top of her head.

  *

  IT was dark by the time Elam pulled into the resort’s parking lot. Muted lighting led toward the main offices, which were located in a Victorian house complete with elaborate gingerbread. Paths bordered with garden lights led the way to other small Victorian-inspired buildings which had been given names such as “The Bunkhouse” and “The Garden Cottage.” Checking the keys that he and P.D. had been given, he noted that he was in “The Bachelor’s Quarters” and she was in “The Briar House.” The two buildings were within sight of each other, but not nearly as close as he would have liked them to be.

  Matter of fact, he wouldn’t have minded sharing a room with P.D.—and he might even have done some sweet-talking to make it happen. But after so long away from the creature comforts, he was sure his clothes could stand up by themselves. He needed a shower, a shave …

  And more condoms.

  Of course, he didn’t want to admit that fact to P.D. Once he’d cleaned and changed, he could make a trip into town. Then, after he’d returned, he’d see how things progressed from there.

  Damn. He just wasn’t smooth about these things. Bodey would have announced to his woman du jour that he needed to stop to pick up a couple of cases of condoms on the way. Then he would have invited himself into her room and made sure that they took a shower together. After that, he wouldn’t see a need for a change of clothes in a very long time.

  But Elam … it wasn’t that he was out of practice with the finer points of single life; it was that he’d never been good at them in the first place. His mother had once said that Elam had an old soul, and he supposed she was right. He’d always been a one-woman man. Hell, he’d fallen in love with Annabel in kindergarten, and she’d been the only woman he’d ever pursued.

  Until now.

  He felt a tug near his heart at the thought of Annabel, but only a tug. Barely a week ago, the thought of her could bring him to his knees. But he’d since discovered that what he’d had with Annabel didn’t diminish what he was experiencing with P.D. It was just … different. And yet … the same.

  Which scared the shit out of him. Was he rushing headlong into something with P.D. simply because it felt good and he was tired of being alone? Shouldn’t he hit the dating scene like Bodey rather than focusing on one single woman? If he was going to have a relationship with P.D., shouldn’t he know for sure that he was emotionally ready for such a step?

  Following the signposts, Elam wound past the main building to the parking spaces in front of the Briar House. The building was a cute Tudor-style bungalow complete with a cottage garden and a cement statue of Brer Rabbit. P.D.’s rooms were located in the back.

  Elam put the truck in park and idled there for several minutes. Damnit. It shouldn’t be this much hard work, figuring out what to do next. They’d just spent several days alone together, and he hadn’t had a second thought about any of his interactions with P.D. But there had been something idyllic about their time together, like being marooned and fighting for common survival. By returning to the realm of responsibilities …

  Shit, shit, shit.

  P.D. lay against him, her lashes thick against her cheeks as she slept. She was worn out, poor thing. She’d given each of the challenges all her energy. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d learned a thing or two about herself. And about him. Hell, he’d learned more than he ever would have thought possible about her. She was kind and funny—and as much as she might want to deny it, there was a streak of romanticism running through her core. Even more than that, he knew that her upbringing had left her searching for a place to sink her roots. And her parents’ indifference hurt her more than she would ever admit. She wanted a home—something that she’d found in Bliss to some extent. But he also sensed that, more than a place, she was searching for what he’d had with Annabel. A connection—a sense of belonging to a person, of needing someone who needed her.

  And he couldn’t promise her that. Not after all he’d been through. He didn’t know if he could ever commit to a woman again, not when he knew the utter devastation that loving someone could bring if Fate or fickleness snatched her away.

  Hell, what a mess.

  As if sensing his own inner turmoil, P.D. stirred, then blinked. Seeing the bungalow in front of them, she wiped her eyes and yawned. “Is this it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Elam opened the door and slid out, leaving the engine running. Grabbing P.D.’s suitcase, he followed her to the door, slipping the key from his pocket.

  P.D.’s gaze flicked to the truck, to the lights that spotlighted them in the darkness.

  Elam slid the key into the lock, waited for the light to blink green, then held the door open for her until she’d stepped inside. Then, staying firmly outside, he said, “Sweet dreams, P.D. I’ll see you a little later.”

  She blinked and regarded him with confusion, but finally nodded and murmured, “You, too, Elam.”

  He leaned forward, planting an awkward kiss on her cheek, then quickly backed away, knowing what he really wanted was to haul her into his arms, push his way inside, and lock the door behind them.

  “See you soon, then.”
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  Quickly turning his back to her, he strode to the truck, climbed inside, slammed the door, and eased out of the parking space. All without looking back.

  But even as he drove toward his own hotel room, he wanted more than anything to go back the way he’d come and drown in P.D.’s embrace. Even an hour’s separation seemed too much. So he’d take the fastest shower on record, make a trip into town …

  And invite himself into the Briar House.

  NINETEEN

  P.D. stared blankly at the door as it slid shut. The lock hit home with a muffled snick.

  What happened?

  For days, she and Elam had been inseparable—and no, she didn’t mean they’d lived in each other’s pockets. There had been an emotional synchronicity between them. And the chemistry, the passion …

  They could have set the valley on fire with the heat of their glances, let alone the desire that flared between them at the slightest touch.

  And yet … he’d left her at the doorstep with a grandfatherly kiss and a “sweet dreams” as if she were … what?

  A child?

  Her hands balled into fists and she stomped into the bathroom, stripping out of her Victorian attire with such force that one of the straps on her chemise tore. Where once she’d thought it would be a great adventure to dress up like a pioneer bride, now she was intimately acquainted with the not-so-idealic realities of the role. Her clothes were ripped and filthy—and she doubted that even a modern-day washer could ever get them clean. Burrs and thistles had tangled into the lacy flounces of her petticoats, and her corset, even when unhooked, held the phantom shape of her body.

  Twisting the knobs to the shower, she stripped out of the rest of her clothing and stepped under its pounding spray. As the heat seeped into her sore muscles, she grimaced as rivulets of grime ran down the drain. Beneath the rush of water, she became aware of every ache, every scratch, every throbbing muscle.

  But all of that was nothing compared to the emotions that took her by storm as she scrubbed her hair and her face, then scoured her body with the provided body gel and scratchy hotel washcloth. Her inner turmoil began with a familiar haunting sense of abandonment and confusion. Then, she was pummeled with memories of the fire at Vern’s, the competition, and her own burgeoning attachment to Elam. All too soon, the events of the past week seemed to grip her chest, squeezing the breath from her, making her body shudder in reaction, until the warmth of tears plunged down her cheeks, mingling with the cool water from her shower.