Forbidden Kisses

by Laurel O'Donnell

  When he walked past her, she noticed his damp hair. It was long enough to curl on his shirt collar. He pulled off his hat and immediately his presence filled the space. "Is something wrong? You seem scared."

  "A bit nervous I must admit. Not sure why, just seems like a very quiet night. Eerie." She waved a hand in the air hoping to convince him it was a light matter. "The way of us women, I suppose. To find evenings a bit daunting."

  Although he nodded, Lucas didn't seem convinced. "Yes, well, I came to see how you were and ask if you'd like to join me for dinner. Maybe getting out and into the spooky outdoors will put your fears at bay."

  His attempt at humor worked. She smiled in spite of herself.

  At her hesitation to reply, he swallowed and let out a breath.

  "Just dinner, Miss Johnston. I'll have you back home safe and sound right afterwards.” When he didn't move closer but remained by the door, it gave her a sense that he was not like other men. His gaze never left her face as he motioned to her shawl. "What do you say?"

  "Very well," Camille answered, picking up her covering to wrap around her shoulders. "I do feel a bit restless. Perhaps the cool air will help."

  He allowed her out first and the headed to the small, eating establishment where most of the single men in Silver City had their meals. Rarely did women go there in the evenings, unless accompanied or traveling through.

  Upon entering the establishment, two things assaulted Camille: the aroma of good food and the different people pausing to look at her and Lucas.

  This was a mistake. However, it was too late to go back. It would spark more tongue wagging than their presence together had already, no doubt, started.

  Unlike her, Lucas moved with assurance through the room, his hand on her elbow guiding her. He greeted people with an easy confidence of a well-liked person in town and asked a couple about their son, who apparently had been ill.

  The wife smiled broadly at him, explaining they were finally able to leave their home and shop for necessities since the baby was fully recovered and explained the grandmother was caring for the infant so they could come to town. She gushed at Lucas until the husband cleared his throat and reminded her that perhaps she could allow them to go and find a table.

  Once they sat, a friendly woman, Florence, one of Camille's regular customers neared. "Well good evening to the both of you." She placed her hands on her wide hips. "I've got some fried chicken with biscuits and plenty of fresh butter that will make you lick your fingers off.” She let out a hearty laugh. "Or if you prefer, I also have chicken stew."

  "I'll take the fried chicken," Lucas said, his eyes wide. "I'm hungry for your great cookin' Miss Florence."

  The woman beamed and looked to Camille. "Well this is a nice surprise. Glad you could come and have supper tonight. That tea you recommended for a bad stomach worked wonders on the husband by the way."

  Camille ordered the fried chicken as well and Florence rushed away claiming to be back in a jiff.

  When she dared to look around the room, careful not to make eye contact, it was reassuring that the people at the surrounding tables had returned to their conversations and meals, not paying her and Lucas any mind.

  Although it was hard to fully relax, Camille was able to not feel too ill at ease in the company of so many.

  "It strikes me as strange that you are so uncomfortable around groups of people. Have you always been this way?" Lucas had obviously been watching her scan the surroundings.

  What could she say? Camille hated having to think her words through, to ensure she only divulged what would not give any indication of her past. "I like people, enjoy company, but for years now I prefer not to be around too many at once." That was as close to the truth as she could give. Camille kept her attention on the table and her companion, not wanting to notice those around her any longer. It would make her too nervous.

  "I can understand. I've spent a lot of my time alone up to the last few months since coming here. When Brogan and I were US Marshals we spent weeks at a time alone out riding. So when I got to a new town or city, it would take a bit of an adjustment."

  Camille nodded. "You seem to fit in well here in Silver City. Everyone likes you and Sheriff Hage.”

  "Yes." His expression became shuttered, his gaze fell and he let out a breath. "It's a nice town. I am thankful for how well the people have accepted us."

  Brogan Hage was a large Scot with a reputation for being harsh. However, since arriving and taking over as sheriff, he'd been the perfect fit for the town. Although still severe, he was a fair lawman.

  They continued speaking of superficial things but Camille couldn't shake the feeling Lucas was testing her. As if he were looking for something she'd say or do that would bring a clue to a puzzle.

  When they'd finished the very delicious meal, they finally left the restaurant. He walked on the outside of the walkway, keeping his long strides in check as to not hurry her. "Miss Johnston, how do you feel since the fall?"

  "I'm fine. You can report back to Sarah that I'm not out of sorts. The other day when she came over, I was a bit distracted and she took it to mean I was not well."

  His lips curved. "She is protective of you. A good friend worries."

  "She is a good friend. I don't want to cause her any unease. I'm fine. Feel good. The wound doesn't hurt at all. Once the stitches come out, I'm sure the scar will heal well."

  Her eyes widened when he turned her to face him. The sun had set in the horizon, but there was still enough light to see clearly. He studied the side of her face. "I feel bad that you hurt yourself. I should have climbed up and helped you down."

  Too close. Camille took shallow breaths when he leaned in to inspect her face. He smelled good. Clean and masculine. His breath was warm as it fanned against her cheek. "I don't believe it will leave a scar at all. Sarah is a good doctor."

  When he finally moved away, she let out a breath and swallowed. "Yes, well, I agree."

  His lips curved. "I will report to her that you are fit and ready for the next tree climbing adventure."

  "You are making fun of me. I know it was not the most ladylike thing to do, but I wasn't about to remain on the ground and become trampled to death by that dreadful animal.” In spite of the awkwardness of just a moment earlier, she chuckled at the picture she must have presented when he came upon her.

  Lucas wasn't sure how to end the evening. He'd delayed as much as he could, but they were only steps away from her shop and he'd be forced to bid her a good night. He enjoyed her company and couldn't keep from stealing glances at her. The woman was not only beautiful, but also quite nice. There were no signs of any type of ill effects from the fall. The only time she'd reacted strangely was upon entering the restaurant. It was easy to notice how ill at ease she was around groups of people. But after a while, as he guided the conversation to pleasant topics, she'd relaxed and seemed to enjoy her meal.

  He didn't want their time together to end. There was no way, however, to keep from depositing her at home and going on his way.

  Besides, it would be a mistake to attempt to get to know her better. As much as he wanted to, there was still the matter of the outlaws to see about. Once he and Brogan decided what action would suit best, it could be they'd have to leave Silver City and return to their old profession.

  The life of a US Marshal was not a good way to start any kind of relationship or family. If he even survived whatever Bill Burns and his gang had planned.

  "You seem to have become lost in thought. Should I report this to Sarah?"

  He blinked at realizing they stood in front of her door and Camille was actually teasing him. "I--I'm sorry. Please don't tell her, she'll give me one of those horrible tonics of hers."

  It was magical when Camille laughed the musical sound made him join in. And before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed her lips. It was a soft, tentative kiss, more impulse than anything and immediately he regretted it.

  "I'm so sorry...I
don't know why I did that." He took a step back. "Please don't think I expect anything from you. It was impulse. It was stupid and disrespectful of me."

  Camille stood stock still, frozen. Her eyes round. Finally, she blinked and gasped. "Well it was certainly unexpected.” In that instant, he saw a different side to her. She had a playful, almost flirty, personality that was quickly hidden. "Don't worry about it. No need to apologize. It... It was nice."

  Her lips curved and she turned to the doorway. "Goodnight, Mr. McKade."

  He touched his hat and opened his mouth, ready to apologize again, but she stopped him. "I had a wonderful time. Thank you for dinner. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight." Lucas remained rooted to the spot while she entered and closed the door behind her. Only when light shined through the second story window, did he turn to head to his home.

  He lived in the house that once belonged to the sheriff. When Brogan married Sarah, they'd move into the house and he would relocate to the rooms behind the jailhouse. For now, the arrangements suited him well.

  The house was really much too large for two bachelors, but they managed to keep it tidy and sometimes even cooked, although most of the time Brogan ate with Sarah at her father's home. Frequently, he was included, but more times than not, he'd beg out, not wanting to constantly be underfoot.

  The house was dark and empty; obviously Brogan was still at Sarah's. So he went straight to his bedroom. Once he lit a lantern and settled it on a table, he began to undress. The entire time, his thoughts were on the woman above the apothecary. Camille Johnston. Something about her troubled him. Not just the attraction he felt, but he was also sure she was not indifferent to him.

  No there was something else. She was not who she portrayed.

  The way she'd automatically scanned the room was not as if she were nervous to be around people. It was more a reaction of survival. Not wanting to be recognized or perhaps ensuring she didn't sense danger from anyone in the room. Once she'd assured herself there was no one that she needed to be wary about, she had relaxed.

  Interesting, but not at all unheard of. Many women moved west to start a new life, many running from cruel circumstances. Was that Camille's situation?

  He wanted...no, he needed to know more about her. His mind on the woman he'd just left, Lucas lay on the bed, his arm curved over his head. He allowed sleep to take him.

  Chapter Four

  The overcast day did not dim Camille's mood. She'd woken with a smile and now found herself humming as she wiped down the counter.

  The scales were gleaming and shelves dust free. The bell over the door tinkled as two women walked in. She recognized both and greeted them.

  "My, doesn't it just smell divine in here," the older woman of the two exclaimed to her friend. "I love walking in here."

  Ruth and her daughter, Gertrude, made a beeline for the shelf stacked with different fragrant soaps Camille made.

  The younger woman, Gertrude, smiled at Camille. "Mother says that every time we come in here. I bet you hear it all the time."

  "I do," Camille replied, returning the smile. "But I never tire of it."

  Ruth smiled warmly at Camille. "And I never tire of telling you what a wonderful, dear girl you are. It was a godsend when you stayed with Gertrude for an entire week while Leonard and I visited my sick sister," she said, referring to her husband.

  The woman picked up a bar of soap and sniffed it. "You have no idea what a burden you took off our shoulders. I was able to take care of sister without worrying about Gertrude being alone since Leonard had to take me."

  The women purchased soaps and then asked for specific teas and herbs. While they waited for Camille to measure and package, she invited them to taste the elderberry tea she'd just brewed.

  When the bell jingled next, just one woman entered. Immediately, the mood of the room changed. Ruth and Gertrude bristled at the presence of Lacy, the saloon madam.

  Unlike the women who immediately paid and took their leave, Camille greeted Lacy warmly. "Hello, Lacy. You look pretty in that green dress. How are you feeling?"

  The woman had come to her a week earlier, complaining of a constant stomach ailment. Camille had given her a mixture of herbs to brew and drink to help with whatever caused her discomfort.

  "I’m much better. I must tell you that I cannot start my day now without drinking my tea first."

  When the woman's gaze lingered a bit too long on her, Camille shifted. "Do you need more?"

  "Yes, please." Lacy finally slid her eyes to the jars on the shelves behind Camille. "And some chamomile, too, please. One of my girls loves to drink it."

  "I will give you a bit extra. Also some peppermint tea for Molly. Tell me, how is she doing?"

  "Much better. She'll be glad for the tea, thank you."

  Camille busied herself measuring and placing the tea into folded bags she'd made out of paper. "If you find your stomach pains return, I can add more peppermint to the mix.

  Lacy took a breath. "I heard you and McKade were over at the restaurant last night."

  Camille wasn't sure why the woman felt the need to bring up her dinner the day before. Unwilling to discuss Lucas, she focused on what she'd eaten. "Oh yes, the fried chicken supper was very good. I thought my mother made good chicken, but I think last night the meal was so much better. The biscuits were good, too. Now I'm going to want to return whenever she's making it again.”

  Camille considered that, in the future, she could pick up the food and bring it back to avoid eating there alone. "Have you tried it, Lacy?"

  The madam straightened and lifted a brow. "No. They don't take well to my kind in family establishments."

  It didn't occur to Camille how different of a life Lacy had than her. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. If you'd like, we can eat here one day. I am planning to pick it up and bring it back, since it's not comely for a woman to eat alone. I suppose we have that in common." Camille chuckled.

  "You're a nice person." Lacy studied her with something between envy and sadness. "I may have to take you up on that offer." The woman's painted lips curved. "How much do I owe you?"

  Camille told her the price then picked up several sample bars of her soap. "Please, share these with the other girls."

  After Lacy left, Camille couldn't help but feel that the woman had come for something more than just the tea. She'd studied Camille as if seeing her for the first time. It was possible Lacy cared for Lucas, maybe even been intimate with him before. In her occupation, that was very possible.

  However, Lacy had to know there would never be anything more between her and any man who visited her establishment. A sad life for sure. At considering what could have possibly happened between Lacy and Lucas, she let out a slow breath. Why should she care? What he did or didn't do wasn't her business. She hoped to know more about him, but it was a stupid idea.

  In that respect, she and Lacy had another thing in common. No matter how attracted she was to Lucas McKade, he could never truly be hers.

  When he'd kissed her, it was as if he'd read her mind. The entire walk home she'd hope for a kiss, but never expected it to happen. Although soft and rather brisk, it was perfect. It was enough to keep her smiling the entire day. Silly to react to it like a young girl after a first kiss, but Camille couldn't help it.

  The smile returned and she shook her head. "Enough of this foolishness, Camille," she stated out loud.

  In the early afternoon, Sarah walked in. She pulled her bonnet and shawl off and placed them neatly onto the seat of a chair. "How are you today, Camille? I needed to walk, so decided to come visit for a bit."

  Camille was delighted to have company. "I'm so glad you came. Feeling a bit lonely today. The shop has been busy, yet no one to converse with really."

  Her friend nodded. "I understand. We had several people come into the clinic so I helped Father all morning. He shooed me out the door after I got a bit snappy with Mrs. Cunningham.” Sarah giggled. "The woman had the nerve to tell me I was incap
able."

  "Seriously?" Camille was ready to rise to her friend's defense. "Why, that is horrible."

  "I saw Lucas on my way over here."

  Sarah's abrupt change in subject caught Camille off guard and she smiled widely at her friend. "Did he say anything? What was he doing?"

  Realizing her mistake too late, she tried to come up with an excuse for her breathless outburst. "I mean...I find it interesting that you mention him." Her face became hot and she cursed how easy she'd let her guard down.

  Sarah's lips curved and she lifted a brow. "He asked me where I was going. I told him I was coming here and then he informed me that he planned to take you to supper again."

  In vain, Camille tried to keep her expression neutral. "Is that so?"

  "I think it's wonderful that he court you. He is a very nice man, Camille. Easy going and very attractive don't you think?"

  "He is attractive," she admitted. "But I am not sure he is the man for me."

  "Why ever not?"

  What to say? She could not admit the truth and there was no good answer to why she and Lucas could not be. Camille hated not being honest with Sarah. She'd never had a good friend before. A friendship should be built on trust, yet she was not brave enough to speak of her past. Not yet.

  "I am not ready for any kind of relationship, Sarah."

  Sarah studied her for a long moment. "You are hiding something." When Camille started to speak, her friend held her hand up. "That's fine. I respect that perhaps you have a hurtful past. Hear me on this. Everyone has something disagreeable in their past. Do you not think Lucas has something in his past he'd rather forget?"

  Camille could only look away. Her past wasn't exactly the problem. It was her present as well. "How are your wedding plans coming along? Just another month and you'll be Mrs. Hage."

  Sarah's face brightened. "Yes. I can hardly wait. I've already started decorating the house. I hate that Lucas insists on moving into the rooms behind the jailhouse after I move into the house they live in now. But he won't change his mind on it no matter how much Brogan and I tell him it's not necessary."