by Bobbi Smith
The thought of Harris hurting Elise drove Trace from the bed. He slipped quietly away to stand at the window. He stared down at the deserted streets of Canyon Creek, wondering where Harris was and how he could get to him. He wondered, too, if the outlaw might see Elise's special edition and come to Durango looking for him. He would have to be even more careful now.
The last few months had left Trace feeling helpless, and he hated feeling helpless. His hands clinched into fists at his sides. He was a man of action, a man who fought for justice, and now, against Harris, he felt powerless. Hell, he couldn't even find his trail to go after him! Trace raked a hand through his hair in an impatient gesture. He wanted to put an end to Harris's reign of terror. Only then could he get on with his life.
"Trace?" Elise whispered his name as she came awake to find him gone from her side.
"I'm here," he answered, not turning toward her as he fought with his emotions, his voice flat and strained.
Elise knew something was wrong. She rose from the bed and went to him. She came up behind him and encircled him with her arms, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against him. He was so warm and strong, and she loved him so. Elise opened her eyes after a moment, and she could see the scars that marred the sleek male beauty of his back. Pain stabbed at her as she imagined the horror of that day with the posse. Wanting to ease his torment, she pressed her lips to a scar.
"I'm sorry they hurt you. I'm sorry any of this had to happen to you," she told him in a hoarse voice.
At the touch of her lips upon him, a shudder wracked Trace. He turned away from the window, taking her in his arms. He held her close to his heart. He knew they might never have another night like this. He knew their happiness could be fleeting, but he was determined to cherish it for as long as he could.
"I love you, Elise." The words were torn from him as he lifted her and carried her back to bed.
With all gentleness, Trace made love to her. He held his raging passion in check, wanting to give her all the pleasure he could, wanting to remember this moment forever. Elise responded to his gentleness with wild abandon, and when at last they had reached the heights of passion together, she rested in the haven of his embrace, never wanting the night to end.
It was a long time later when she finally stirred and rose onto one elbow to look down at him. There was no hint of Gabe in him now. Compellingly handsome, Trace was the fierce, powerful man she'd caught glimpses of during their earlier weeks together. She wondered how she could have been so blind.
"What were you worrying about before?" she asked quietly, not sure that he was ready to talk about it, but truly wanting to know. She wanted to help him in any way she could.
"I was thinking of the Harris gang," he answered flatly, his frustration obvious. "I was trying to figure out how to stop them before anyone else gets killed. There has to be a way I can get a lead on them. I must be overlooking something, missing some clue that will take me to them."
"Maybe you're going about this the wrong way. Maybe instead of chasing them, you should try to draw them to you." Elise knew that nothing was more important to Trace than bringing the gang to justice. She couldn't bear the thought, though, that he might ride away one day to go after Harris and never come back. She had been desperately trying to think of a way to keep him with her. She hoped she'd come up with the perfect solution.
"Sure, I'll just take out an ad in all the newspapers around the state, telling Harris that I'm in Durango."
"No, nothing like that. This is something we could do together-like exposing Preacher Farnsworth. I know Marshal Trent will work with us. He wants the gang almost as badly as you do," she told him, hoping he'd come to see that her way might work. "All we have to do is set a trap with bait they can't resist."
"That's what I'm afraid your special edition on me was."
"There's no guarantee that Harris will even see that. We only got out two hundred copies. No, we need something big, something as big as Farnsworth, that'll get the whole area talking. If we set it up, we would be in control of the whole confrontation."
"What did you have in mind?"
"We know they're after money-and they like lots of it. What if we printed news in the Star that would entice them to come to Durango? What do you think?"
"I don't want you anywhere near Matt Harris. I don't want you in any danger," he declared.
"I won't be in any danger." Elise leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. "You'll be with me the whole time. You've already saved me from Farnsworth and from Boyd, and with any luck you won't have to save me from Harris, too."
Trace deepened the kiss at the thought of her in Harris's hands. "He's a deadly man, Elise. Farnsworth and Boyd were nothing compared to Harris."
"And that's why we have to do this. Everyone in the whole state is in danger right now with that gang running free," she argued. "From the way things have been going lately, they could strike anywhere, any time, and get away with it. But if we did it this way, luring them to Durango, we could be ready for them. We would be in charge. We would set the time and the place. There would be no surprises. It will work, I know it will."
Trace knew Elise was right. It made more sense to try to lure the outlaws to him than to try to track them down, never knowing when he would come face-to-face with them. After that day with the posse, he knew he wanted to be in control the next time he confronted Harris. He didn't want any surprises.
"We can't use a gold shipment or an army payroll," he said thoughtfully. "The movements of those shipments are always kept highly confidential, and they're heavily guarded."
"I know. I was thinking of something a little more creative, a little more believable. A few years ago, when I first went to work for Ben, he made a special trip to Denver to see some British royalty who were there for a visit. He was quite impressed with all the pomp that went with their tour, and as I recall, he did go on quite a bit about the jewels the women were wearing." She paused, lost deep in thought for a moment; then a slow smile curved her lips. "Of course-"
"What are you thinking?"
"I've got our lead story for next week! We at the Star have just learned that Lord and Lady Winston will be arriving by train later in the month to tour the area. Lady Winston is known for her fabulous family jewels."
"Lord and Lady Winston?" he asked with a half smile.
Elise's laugh was almost childlike in delight as she let her imagination run away with her. She answered, "Oh, yes! Real British royalty coming to Durango. What do you think?"
"And just where do you plan to find your Lord and Lady Winston?"
"I have the perfect couple in mind-"
"Elise-" He had a sudden fear that she was planning on the two of them pretending to be the royals.
"Don't you think George and my grandmother would make a perfect lord and his lady?" she asked, her eyes aglow at the thought.
Trace was relieved at her suggestion, but concerned about their safety. "Do you think they'd do it?"
"I think they would. Grandmother was certainly excited about the `wedding' and Preacher Farnsworth. If she thought she could help bring down the Harris gang, she'd be thrilled."
Trace gave a low chuckle as he thought of the older woman. He lifted one hand to cup Elise's cheek and draw her near for a kiss. "I know where you get it from then."
She gave a soft laugh as she met him in that exchange, knowing he was right.
It was a long while later before they bothered to to think about the paper or the gang again.
"We need to talk to the saloon girl first thing in the morning," Trace said, holding her close, yet knowing that they would soon be facing daylight and reality.
"And then head back," she finished for him, her tone sad. "I don't want to go back. I want to stay right here, like this."
He kissed her again, letting her know he felt the same way. "Elise," he began softly, "when this is all over, I want to see you again in that dress you were wearing at the stage depot."
&nbs
p; She lifted her head to gaze down at him, tears burning in her eyes as she smiled. "I love you, Trace Jackson or Gabe West or Ben Hollins or whatever your name really is. I knew you were the man for me the minute I saw you climbing down off that stage, and I promise you, you'll have a much better wedding night next time."
"I'm looking forward to it," he told her with a rakish grin.
They came together one last time, treasuring their love and their privacy.
The sky had just begun to lighten when Elise finally slipped back to her own room. Her heart was singing as she let herself in. She couldn't believe so much had changed in just one night, but it had. Her whole life was different now.
Gabe was Trace-and she loved him.
The realization still stunned her, even as she embraced the knowledge happily. Everything she'd ever imagined about Trace Jackson had proven true. He was brave and honorable and dedicated. His fierce need to right the wrongs the gang was wreaking on the state only made her love him more.
And he loved her.
She sighed contentedly as she began to prepare herself for the interview to come. It was important that they find out who revealed the truth of Trace's survival.
Sissy Perkins was not pleased when someone pounded on her door that morning. She had worked late into the night and the last thing she wanted to do was get up early.
"Who is it?" she demanded, pulling the covers over her head.
"It's me, Lottie! Get up! There's some people here want to talk to you."
"Well, I don't want to talk to them! Tell them I'm busy!"
"I will not!" Lottie declared, trying her door and finding it unlocked. She let herself in. "This is important. Get up, Sissy!"
Sissy groaned and buried her head in her pillow. "I want to sleep!"
"You can sleep later," Lottie told her. "Its a man and a woman, and they say they're from a newspaper in Durango. They want to interview you about something."
"They're from a newspaper? What would they want with me?"
"I don't know, and that's what I want to find out! So, get up!"
Sissy only groaned. Her head was still aching from all the liquor she'd drunk the night before with the wild cowboy who'd spent most of the night with her. She'd had a fine time. She'd enjoyed every minute, but right now, she was regretting having had so much fun.
"Go away," she muttered. "I'll be down in a few minutes."
"Good. I'll go tell them you're coming. Don't take too long!"
Sissy moaned as Lottie slammed the door behind her on her way out. It took an effort, but she threw off the covers and sat up. She immediately caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and shook her head in disgust. The sight certainly wasn't pretty. Getting to her feet, she staggered to her washstand to start repairing the damage. It wasn't going to be easy, but she couldn't go downstairs looking like this. One of her customers might see her!
Trace and Elise sat at one of the tables in a corner, waiting for Sissy to come downstairs. They knew the bartender and the other working girl were watching them, curious about the reason for their call on Sissy, but they pretended to be above it all.
"The Mother Lode has a lot in common with the High Time, don't you think?" Elise remarked, trying not to grin at Trace.
"Let's hope not. The last thing I want to deal with this morning is another Boyd."
"He was interesting," she said, her eyes sparkling with humor.
"`Interesting' is not a word I'd use to describe him," he growled.
"Thank you, again, for helping me that night," Elise said softly, remembering Trace coming to save her. He had been her avenging warrior, her guardian angel. She would have kissed him right then and there, but she thought the barkeep might offer her a job. The thought made her smile.
"What are you smiling about?" he asked, wishing they were alone so he could kiss her.
"Nothing that we can talk about," she informed him primly.
He bit back a groan of sensual awareness as he looked at her across the table. She looked every bit the proper lady, but he knew firsthand the passionate woman she really was. He wanted to pick her up and carry her out of there back to his hotel room, but he managed to control the impulse. "It's too early for a drink," he muttered to himself as his mind conjured up the image of her in her red satin dress and blond wig.
"What?"
"Nothing."
They finally heard someone coming down the stairs and saw a tall, voluptuous blonde wearing a low-cut black dress making her way into the room.
"They're over there, Sissy," Lottie called out to her, pointing toward the table where they were sitting.
Sissy nodded and headed toward the two strangers.
"This damn well better be good," she complained out loud. "You interrupted my beauty sleep." She stopped at the table before them. "I'm Sissy Perkins. You want to talk to me?" she said curtly.
"Yes, we would." Trace stood and pulled out a chair for her in the most gentlemanly fashion.
"Oh." Sissy got a good look at him and wondered who he was as she slipped into the chair. She knew she'd never seen him before. With those glasses and bow tie, she would have remembered him. She wondered vaguely if he would be any fun upstairs. She decided maybe getting up early hadn't been such a bad thing. "Thank you. A true gentleman is a rare thing here in Canyon Creek."
"My pleasure, Miss Perkins." Trace gave her a winning smile as he sat back down.
She practically melted at his smile, and she batted her eyes at him.
For the first time in her life, jealousy flared within Elise, and she was startled by it. She found herself speaking up, wanting to distract the other woman from Trace. "We appreciate your taking the time to talk with us."
Sissy was irritated by the woman's presence and looked over at her coldly. "So who are you and what are you after?" She looked back at the man and smiled, ignoring the woman again.
"I'm Gabe West, Miss Perkins. I'm the owner and editor of the Durango Star, and this is Elise Martin. She works for me at the paper," he told her smoothly.
Lucky girl, Sissy thought.
"Please, Gabe," she said, emphasizing his name, "just call me Sissy. Everybody does."
"Well, Sissy-"
When he said her name, she practically cooed, and Elise gritted her teeth at the display.
"-we're here because we received word that you might know something about one Sheriff Trace Jackson," he explained, smiling at her again.
Sissy looked a bit surprised by his statement. "How'd you hear about that?"
"A good newspaperman never reveals his sources," Trace said easily in his most charming manner. "But if it is true, we'd definitely like to know more about it."
"Sheriff Jackson was the best lawman in the state," Elise put in. "If there's a chance he's alive, the public needs to know about it!"
"Well..." Sissy hesitated, and then thought, why not? "All I know is that a cowboy came in to spend some time with me, and he got to talking while we were upstairs."
"And?" Elise pressed her.
"He said something like, `They all think Jackson's dead, but he ain't. I saw him. I talked to him.,,'
"Who was this man? Do you know his name? We'd like to interview him, too."
"No. I'd never seen him before that night, and I ain't seen him since."
"What did he look like?"
"He wasn't real tall. Had blond hair and was a little on the heavy side. He looked like he'd been in a fight and had come out on the losing end, too. Will that help you?" She looked at the man named Gabe and gave him her most inviting look.
"Yes, thank you. And you think he was serious?"
"He had no reason to lie to me," she said with a shrug.
"Did he say where Jackson might be?" Elise asked. "We'd like to find him and talk to him, if we could."
"No, he didn't say any more than what I just told you."
"Well, we appreciate all your help, Sissy," Trace said.
Totally ignoring Elise's presence, she gave him he
r most hungry look. "It may be early, but sometimes a little fun in the morning can set the mood for the whole day," she offered. "You want to come upstairs with me for a while?"
Trace stood and took her hand. "We appreciate all your help, but we really have to be going." He kissed her hand.
Sissy nearly fell off her chair at his gallant gesture. No man had ever treated her that way before. She watched speechlessly for a moment as he offered his arm to Elise and started to escort her from the saloon.
"You can come back later!" she called out. "I'll be right here!"
Trace smiled at her one last time as he disappeared outside with Elise.
Inside the Mother Lode, Sissy sat staring after them, her heart pounding.
"What was that all about?" Lottie asked as she came over to join her.
"He owns a newspaper in Durango, and somehow he'd heard that I knew something about that Sheriff Jackson." She was still staring after him. "Damn, Lottie, maybe we should head for Durango and go to work at a saloon there. He sure was special."
"I like my men to be more manly," Lottie said, thinking the man had looked a bit like a sissy in his spectacles and all.
"My instincts are never wrong, girl. For all that he looked like the book-learning type, that man was a stud. I wish he'd had more time. He could have serviced me, and I could have showed him a good time, loosened him up a bit." She paused, a sexy smile curving her lips. "That would have been fun-loosening him up a bit."
"Go back to bed," Lottie advised her. "You need some more rest."
"Not now I don't," she complained. "He done woke me up."
Sissy hurried to the swinging doors to see if she could catch sight of the man named Gabe West, but he and the woman had already disappeared from sight. Disappointment filled her. She went to the bar.
"Give me a whiskey, Harry Lee. It's going to be one long day."
Trace's expression turned grim as soon as they'd walked away from the saloon.
"What's wrong?" Elise asked, seeing the sudden change in him.