Forbidden Kisses

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Forbidden Kisses Page 35

by Laurel O'Donnell


  She drank tea made from wormwood to keep anything from taking hold. It would work and, hopefully, there would not be any result to their lovemaking. Although, in her heart, she did wish for a reminder of the wonderful night. The one and only time she'd been so loved, cherished and reassured.

  He'd told her several times not to worry, that he'd marry her. Lucas was a real man. Someone who believed in honor. A man any woman would be very lucky to marry.

  As much as she wished it to be, wishing wouldn't change what stood in the way of their marriage. She slammed her hand onto a tabletop and let out a groan. It wasn't fair. Not just that her past continued to haunt her, but also that it ruined every aspect of a happy future.

  With an angry swipe, Camille attempted to dry her tears with the back of her hand. She pulled out paper and began scribbling two notes. One to Sarah and one to Lucas. She'd have someone deliver both to Sarah, who'd see that Lucas got his.

  Pondering what to write brought more tears.

  Before long, she motioned a young boy over and paid him to deliver the notes, instructing him to wait until the afternoon to do so. She'd included the keys to her shop in Sarah's note so that her friend could disperse whatever was left.

  She rounded the building, bumping straight into Lacy who eyed her with concern. "Something wrong? You look as if you've been crying."

  Camille let out a long breath. "It's not a good day for me Lacy, but it'll be fine. Thank you for asking." She attempted to round the woman, but was held back by a surprisingly strong grip.

  Lacy lifted a brow. "I know that look. No matter what you hide or run from, it always catches up. It's best to turn and face things sometimes. Get it over with. Ain't no use in living otherwise."

  It took a few seconds before Camille could come up with a response. Was she really so distraught, it was evident to someone who barely knew her? "It will pass I'm sure, just silly everyday issues. Nothing of much importance."

  The woman lifted a shoulder and pursed her lips. "If you say so. Just let me ask something." She let out a breath. "Don't hurt him."

  Camille swallowed. "I would never hurt Lucas intentionally....I..."

  "You love him. Yes, I know." Lacy's shiny eyes met hers for an instant before she rounded Camille and rushed away. The woman was in love with Lucas. Camille wanted to rush after Lacy, hug her to offer something, but all she could think about was how she was about to hurt Lucas. Confirm his fear of the possibility of a child who would grow up without him. She sagged and closed her eyes.

  There was no choice. If she remained, it would mean she'd have to tell Lucas they could never marry. It was doubtful he'd agree to any other kind of assignation. A relationship of lovers was not something she wanted either.

  When she reached the back of her shop where her horse and wagon waited, all choices were gone.

  Her husband's brother stood next to the wagon, a gun pointed at her.

  ****

  "Someone's been here," one of the men called out, signaling to a small area. "Campfire's been put out not too long ago."

  Brogan rode up alongside Lucas and studied the area. "Doesn't mean it was outlaws. I suppose we won't know until we come upon them."

  Two days of riding in circles and Lucas was ready to head back to town. He couldn't stop the nagging feeling something was wrong.

  In the back of his mind, he kept picturing the look on Camille's face when he was leaving. There was something in her expression that didn't sit well. The more he dwelled on it, the more he felt as if she tried to convey something.

  "What do you think?" Bronson studied him and he realized he'd not heard the question.

  "About what?"

  "Heading back to town but splitting up and coming from the west so we scout out a different area."

  His heart lightened. "Good plan."

  It was dusk and they were still half a day's ride away. The rain poured so heavy it was barely possible to see more than a few yards. Lucas guided his horse to where trees would give some shelter. Drenched and tired, the others followed suit.

  He looked around to the other haggard faces. "We need to find shelter. The storm is not going to let up."

  "My horse is getting spooked by the lightning," one of the men replied.

  "There's a cave not too far from here."

  An hour later, they were ensconced inside a huge cave. Men and horses warmed up with the help of a large fire they'd managed to start with dry branches near the mouth of the cave.

  "The most uncomfortable feeling: wet drawers," one of the men said, causing the others to chuckle.

  Although Lucas was anxious to return, there wasn't much that could be done. They'd spend the night in the cave and hope for a break in the weather at sunrise.

  Before long, they all lay around the fire sleeping.

  At first Lucas was not quite aware of the noise, but then a loud bang startled him awake.

  Shots rang out and he realized two of his men were just outside the cave shooting. He pulled his gun and ran. He bent low to see what happened. His heart thumped hard against his chest.

  "What's going on?" he asked Brogan, who looked out over a rock.

  Brogan shook his head. "Not sure. I think someone considers the cave theirs and shot at Marcus when he went to take a piss."

  Marcus was unhurt, cussing as he walked past. "A shame when a man shoots at you in the middle of it, too.” He continued grumbling as he headed to the horses. "Let’s get out of here."

  "No," Brogan said, "we have to find out who that is. It may be more than one."

  Lucas motioned to Marcus to come closer. "They may have thought you were alone and seeing more of us, have gone to find others."

  "Hadn't thought of that." Marcus' eyes scanned the surroundings.

  The men split into two groups to search for whoever it was that shot at them. Moments later, a bullet whizzed past Lucas' shoulder and he fired in return. They dismounted and rushed to take cover behind trees.

  "I'm Deputy McKade," Lucas cried out. "You are outnumbered, best you come out."

  His answer was another gunshot.

  Whoever hid behind some rocks was alone. Lucas motioned silently with his hand to the men that he was going closer.

  He crept as quietly as possible to where he could get a clear view of the man. The man was younger than he expected, gangly and nervous. His hands were shaking badly, which explained his bad marksmanship. When one of his men shot into the air taking the young man's attention, Lucas hurried closer until he was only yards away.

  "Put the gun down."

  The young man yelped but didn't drop the gun. Instead, he holstered it and turned to Lucas with both hands up. "I didn't do nothing."

  "You shot at me."

  He seemed to search for what to say next, his eyes darting to and fro, as if hiding something. "I just wanted to use the cave."

  "You could've asked." Lucas lowered his gun. It was easy to see the man was simple and not quite understanding the ramifications of his actions. "Where you headed?"

  "Taking my sister-in-law to see my Pa."

  He looked around and didn't see anyone else. Clearly, the young man was delusional. "Well, get on then. Don't go shooting at anyone."

  "You really Lucas McKade?" The young man's wide eyes took Lucas in as if assessing something. "I heard of you, just can't remember what." He hit the side of his head with his fist. "I reckon I'll think of it."

  At this point, the other men came up and looked to Lucas, who motioned for them to lower their guns.

  The ride back to Silver City was uneventful and slow. The storm made for muddy ground, which caused the horses to slow down to a trudge. Uncomfortable in his still soggy clothing and tired from lack of sleep, Lucas couldn't wait to bathe and then head over to see Camille.

  Brogan and his team had gone in a different direction just to ensure there wasn't a camp they'd missed.

  When the town came into view, it was just as they'd left it, the usual mid-afternoon activities. Noth
ing had changed, which was good news. Bill Burns and his gang had not arrived and perhaps the sick man had just repeated an old story, or even made it up. Although he doubted the latter.

  If Burns was, indeed, planning to come for him and Brogan, it wasn't anytime soon. There had been no signs of any groups of men in the surrounding areas.

  ****

  Camille had never been so overcome with a sense of helplessness than at that moment. Bound and gagged, she lay in the back of her own wagon. Although Billy Charles had pulled her wagon under the shelter of trees and placed a blanket over her, she was wet and cold from the rain. To top things off, he'd left, promising to find shelter and not returned in what seemed like hours.

  Tears slid down her face as she wondered if this was how she'd die. It had been foolish of her to try and talk Billy Charles into letting her go. In retrospect, she should have run and screamed for help. He wouldn't have shot at her. At least, she didn't think he would've. Despite anything, he'd always seemed to like her. Even while tying her up, he'd kept reassuring her he hated having to do it.

  She struggled once again in an attempt to loosen the rope around her bound wrists. The pain of the raw skin finally made her stop and she let out a cry of frustration.

  Footsteps sounded and she moaned as loudly as possible, only to stop when Billy Charles lifted the blanket and peered down at her.

  "You cryin'?"

  His face crumpled as if he, too, was about to cry. "It's not too far to the house. In a few minutes, we can cut you free and you can clean up." He grinned down at her.

  Camille glared at him, which made his wide smile disappear.

  Several people gathered in front of the stables and watched with interest as the three soggy men dismounted and saw about the horses. Lucas ensured his horse had plenty of oats and water before beginning the work of brushing the animal down. He was almost finished when a stable hand came up and leaned on the fence. "Deputy McKade, ya hear about Miss Johnston?"

  His head jerked straight up. "No, what happened?"

  "Can't find her. Came and bought this mare late yesterday. When Pa asked if she wanted to rent stable space for it, she said no, that she was leavin' for a while."

  Lucas put the brush away, his heart racing. "The mare is still here. Did she say when she planned to go?"

  The young man scratched his head. "That's the thing, she was supposed to come get it this morning, but she never came. Pa sent me over to check on her, but she never answered the door."

  Not waiting for any other explanations, Lucas rushed from the stables, running across the street until coming to the apothecary. The door was locked, a neatly written note tacked so that it was visible through the glass pane.

  Closed until further notice.

  Thank You

  Camille Johnston

  Lucas went around to the back door. He knocked the glass from a small window and reached in to open the back door. The familiar aroma of the space stopped him for a moment. He scanned the front room. As the boy had explained, it did seem as if many things had been taken. There were still some half-filled jars and bins with a few of the herb bundles she sold, but most of her inventory had been taken.

  He turned and rushed up the stairs. The bedroom, which just a couple nights earlier had been a haven for him, was now essentially bare of anything that reminded him of Camille. Her clothing, bedding and wall adornments were gone as well as perfume bottles, brushes, window coverings and hatboxes.

  She'd done a good job of packing. The only thing left was the large furniture.

  Why had she gone? Was it because of their night together? Did that one wonderful night change something in Camille? But what would cause a woman to run and leave everything behind?

  Lucas pushed his head back and looked down at the floor. What the hell was he supposed to do now? There were footfalls downstairs and he hurried down, only to stop in his tracks when seeing Sarah.

  "My goodness, Lucas, you startled me," Sarah whirled to face him. "When did you return? Where's Brogan?"

  "Do you have any idea why Camille left?" he asked, ignoring her questions. "Where did she go?"

  Sarah wrinkled her brow. "She left two notes. One for me and one for you." She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her reticule. "Please let me know if she tells you where she went."

  The words were smeared on his note and he glanced up at Sarah who busied herself by placing items into a large basket.

  Dearest Lucas,

  I beg you not to hate me for doing this. I am forced to leave due to circumstances I cannot explain. I wish I could tell you where I'm headed but, to be honest right now, I have no plan.

  Know that you are so very special to me. I will hold the precious memory of our one night together always. It would be a dream come true to be with you always.

  Goodbye,

  Camille

  With blank eyes, he reread the note again. It made no sense. If anything, her note made him more confused.

  "Does she explain to you why she left so hastily?" Sarah looked to him with shiny eyes. "I hope it’s nothing horrible."

  "No, she does not. What did your note say?"

  Sarah sniffed. "She stated how much she valued our friendship and that I was her only friend. That she had to leave because of circumstances in her past and how she wished things were different. Nothing about where she headed."

  "The same with my note," Lucas said shoving the note into his shirt pocket. "Did she ever say anything about family? Where she came from?"

  Sarah lifted a small bouquet of dry flowers and sniffed it. After placing it into the basket, she straightened. "It took her a long time to become comfortable enough to spend time with me. She once told me it was because I didn't delve and ask too many questions. One day, she was especially melancholy and told me she missed her parents. Told me they'd both died while she was young and she had to move to eastern Montana with her aunt and uncle. From what I gathered, the couple who raised her resented it."

  "Do you think she went back?"

  Sarah shrugged. "I doubt it. Camille left her aunt and uncle very young. I think about nineteen."

  "So seven years give or take," Lucas replied.

  The bell jingled when the front door opened and Olivia Blakely, the mercantile owner’s wife, strolled in. Her shrewd gaze took in the near empty space. "So it's true."

  "What's true?" Sarah said to the woman whose brows rose at her sharp tone.

  "Just that I heard she left. Thought it was strange this morning when I went out back to check the chicken coop. The wagon was all packed up and some man stood next to it. Gangly looking fella."

  "A man?" Sarah exclaimed before Lucas could say anything.

  He touched her arm and turned to Olivia Blakely. "Have you seen the man before?"

  "Didn't look familiar at all. He looked as if not all there. Kinda talkin' to himself and such. I waved and called out good morning. He grinned and waved back. Seemed nice enough."

  Lucas shivered when his blood turned ice cold. It would be too much of a coincidence. The man Olivia described sounded just like the man they'd run into back at the cave. But that man had been on foot, he'd not seen nor heard a horse or cart.

  "Did you see Camille leave with him?"

  Mrs. Blakely shook her head. "No. As a matter of fact, my husband said he saw the skinny fellow driving the wagon about half an hour later. He was alone. I thought perhaps he was just resting here and then left. Later this morning, I came to ask Camille if she sold the wagon. That’s when I saw the note on the door."

  Lucas stormed out of the shop, his soppy clothes and lack of sleep forgotten. He rushed to the jailhouse where Brogan and the other men where already dismounted and heading in separate directions.

  "I believe Camille was kidnapped," he told Brogan, his voice breathless from running. "I have to go back out."

  It was uncanny how spending years with someone meant no long explanations were necessary. Brogan took his arm. "Go to the house. Change into
dry clothes. I'll go change as well." He looked to the other men who'd stopped and watched them. "Marcus, can you got to the stables and get us two fresh horses?"

  "You got it, Sheriff."

  A short time later, they were heading out of town in the direction of where Lucas had seen the simple-minded man. In his mind, he pictured the worst. Why had the man been alone when they'd come upon him?

  Chapter Eight

  Camille had lost track of time. All feeling in her arms was gone and her right leg throbbed from laying on it and bumping along for so long. She moaned when the wagon hit a deep indent and tried to swallow past the gag.

  They stopped and the sound of footfalls leaving made her pray it meant she'd be released from the bindings. It didn't even matter to her at the moment that she'd be face-to-face again with the man she'd run from. The pain was intolerable and, surely, once the ties were removed, her arms would ache as she regained feeling in them. But it couldn't get any worse.

  The damp blanket was removed and she blinked at the sudden sunlight. Several faces looked down at her. She was dragged to the edged and lifted. When they attempted to place her on her feet, she crumpled to the ground.

  Snickers sounded above her, but she could only remain on the dirty ground, unable to move. "Cut her loose, idiot," a gruff voice said.

  Someone picked her up and held her upright while another person untied the rope at her ankles and her arms. She was only aware of her arms being freed because they flopped to her sides.

  The tingling sensation that came next was almost as painful as the bumping had been and she began to cry. Her right leg could not bear weight so she held it up and stood on the other.

  "She's in bad shape," the same gruff voice stated as her mouth gag was removed. "You give her anything to eat or drink, Billy Charles?"

  "I forgot," came the reply.

  "Bill will be glad to see you." A bearded man leaned forward. His bushy beard covered most of his face, yet she recognized him as Bill Burns' brother, Randall. She looked away, unable to believe they'd caught her. After being free, returning to where her nightmare came from was unbearable. She let out a shaky cry, unable to keep the terror from seizing her so tight her lungs burned.

 

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