by Linda Broday
While his men dove into making trails and stringing up rope to guide her around the town, he taught her where it was safe to go. An area of danger where the saloon sat. “Stay away from over here. When you hear the windmill get loud, you know you’ve gone too far.”
She finally took the walking stick alone. Clay held Bullet and stood poised to dive in if she ran into trouble. The first five or six steps were shaky and she fell twice. Each time, Clay waved Tally back from rushing to the rescue. He picked the child up, dusted her off, and set her again on her feet.
“You’re doing real good, honey. It’s going to take practice. Are you scared?”
Violet shook her head. “I like being able to go places by myself. It’s fun.”
“That’s my girl.”
After many more falls, by the time they quit for the day, Violet had become more self-assured. And Clay was happy to spend time with her at last. She was still hesitant when her old fears seeped in, and sometimes when he reached for her too quickly, her eyes grew round and her heart raced as though she feared his touch. Soft words and a light hand soothed her.
They seemed to take two steps forward and one back, but all in all, he was pleased and so was Tally, who hovered near like a nervous mother hen.
Once Violet was playing with Bullet, Tally strode to him, her long legs closing the space between them. “Thank you, Clay. You don’t know what this meant to her. And to me.”
He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss the worry from her eyes. Instead, he casually draped an arm around her neck and let his hand dangle. Her nearness made his heart stampede. “We still have more work to do, but I think this was a good start. She’s beginning to trust me.”
“That’s a huge step. Clay, I wish…”
“I know.” He, too, wished that she could trust him. “It’ll come.”
Her gaze moved to Rebel, who’d joined the men and was laughing at something they said. “Watch out for her. Rebel wants you back and doesn’t care how she does it.”
It appeared the warrior woman was coming out. Clay put his mouth to her ear. “You have nothing to fear, darlin’. I know all about the Rebels of this world.”
If only he was half as knowledgeable about warrior angels.
* * *
Clay’s reassurance did little to calm Tally. Rebel posed a huge threat, not only to her marriage but to her security. One thing the woman was not—slow-witted. She could sneak out some night and turn Tally in for the big reward.
On the other hand, Belle was such a delight and Tally knew she’d found a fast friend. She had only to pull away the mask of age to glimpse the young girl inside.
“I’m a wanted woman, Belle,” Tally confided, speaking low, while they drew fresh water for the men. “I’m sure you wondered about this mark on my cheek.”
“I learned a long time ago to stay out of other people’s business.” Belle picked at the hem of her apron with her misshapen hands. “I figured you’d talk in your own good time.”
Tally told her a little about Creedmore and her escape.
“I’m glad you’re out of there.” Belle’s voice lowered. “Tobias rescued me from a mean group when I was a young girl. He was an outlaw and a hell-raiser back then, but he saved me from a fate worse than death.” Suddenly, Belle grinned. “I straightened him out.”
“He’s a wonderful, caring man. You did a good job, Belle.”
The old woman patted Tally’s hand. “Clay Colby’s worth saving too. Don’t give up on him. I see what you’re wrestling with, but he’s one of the good ones. After Tobias rescued me, my grandmother saw how I struggled to reconcile the past. She said that tragedy spares no one. We have to battle it as we would an intruder and keep pushing it out.” Belle leaned closer. “There are threads of meaning, even in the darkest moments, when we can’t see past our fear.”
Thick emotion closed Tally’s throat as she hugged her new friend. “You are a very wise woman, Belle January, and I’m so glad you came.”
“Me, too. Just be still and listen to your heart. Be willing to risk everything for love.” Belle motioned to Clay. “He’s yours if you want him.”
Was it that simple? Was she willing to risk everything in the hope that what she felt was love? Hadn’t she already risked enough coming here? The promise she’d made Clay weighed heavily on her.
“You’ve borne much sorrow. You can have happiness though. Just reach out and grab it.” Belle threw out her arm, snatching the air.
Thinking over all that Belle had said, Tally turned back to the task at hand. She and Belle, mostly by themselves, unpacked the wagon and stretched tents before finishing the garden. Rebel, meanwhile, stood back and told them what they were doing wrong. Once Tobias marched up to the woman and laid down the law, things went much smoother.
After the camps were set up, they helped the men. Clay’s idea of making trails and stringing guide rope was going to make a huge difference in Violet’s life. At that point, of course, Rebel never once complained, just flying in and making herself useful. But then, that might’ve been because she was in close proximity to the outlaws. The woman just seemed to thrive in their company, and Tally envied how easily she talked to them. They spent much of the afternoon in laughter, which made the work go faster.
Belle moved closer to Tally, her eyes twinkling through the milky film. “I think we’ve discovered a secret. If we want Rebel to do any work at all, have the men come help us.”
“That does appear the case, Belle.” Tally grinned. At least Clay was too busy to spend time with the hussy.
But what would happen come nightfall? Worry again crawled up Tally’s spine. She didn’t trust this siren in red any farther than she could sling a snake.
Like any man alive and breathing, Clay would probably welcome a warm body curled next to him. One who hadn’t wounded him.
Hell and tarnation! She’d created a bad situation and didn’t know how to fix it.
This thing between Clay and Rebel was deep. They shared far too much. Tally had overheard them reminiscing about close calls with death and nights spent together. In fact, Rebel had treated Clay’s wounds on more than one occasion and kept him from dying.
What had Tally done? She swallowed past the lump.
Ran out on him, lied, betrayed his trust, just like all the other faithless women he’d tried to marry. That’s the history they shared.
She couldn’t compete with Rebel. So how could she fight her?
Shooting her automatically sprang to mind. But that would only make everything worse. If Rebel didn’t die, Clay would probably take over her care and nurse her back to health, after which he’d never speak to Tally again. No, she had to think of something else.
If only one of the other men would take an interest in Rebel. Yes, that was it! They were all hungry for a wife.
Travis Lassiter caught her attention. He could turn any woman’s head with his ready grin and blond good looks. And Rebel had already let her hands stray to his broad chest.
Besides, they had a lot in common. Travis had once owned a saloon, after all. At least until one night he killed two men who’d hurt and abducted one of his working girls. The story was that Travis tracked them down single-handedly and killed them in cold blood.
When Travis went to the water bucket for a drink, Tally followed.
“Hot day, ma’am.” Travis offered her the cup.
“Go ahead and drink, Travis. I’ll wait.” She watched him guzzle his fill. “What do you think of Rebel Avery?”
Travis grinned. “She’s real pretty. I wonder if she’d dance with me tonight.”
Tally moved closer. “She likes you. I can tell. Ask her to come and then look at the stars afterward. I’ll bet she’ll snap you up.”
“Do you really think so?” Travis wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’d sure like to kiss her.”
&
nbsp; “You won’t know until you ask, but I’m sure she’ll say yes. She’s a very lonely woman.” Tally glanced at the brazen hussy. “I think you’re exactly what she needs—a strong man.”
“All right, you’ve convinced me. Thank you, Miss Tally.” Travis went back, whistling a happy tune.
She watched him sweet-talking Rebel and oh how the Jezebel loved it. She threw back her head and laughed, then kissed Travis on the cheek. The first part of Tally’s plan seemed to be working.
But night was falling fast, and along with it came jitters.
* * *
A heavy mist enveloped the town that night. They shared an evening meal outdoors, laughing and talking. Tally sat with Belle and Tobias. Clay ate with Jack and Ridge. It didn’t take long for Rebel to pick up her plate and join them. Clay seemed cold and remote, his features hard.
A hard ache settled in Tally’s chest as she tried to ignore them. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep from glancing over at them. She hated this gnawing jealousy. If only she knew magic and a spell to change Rebel into an ugly, warty toad. But magic was not going to fix this.
Dallas Hawk finished eating and picked up his fiddle. Soon every nook and cranny of Devil’s Crossing was filled with music and laughter.
Clay came to Tally and Violet and held out his hand. “Let’s dance, baby girl.”
Violet’s face lit up and she nodded. Clay whisked her away and she clung to him tightly, as though afraid he’d vanish.
Tally watched for a moment, glad to see Violet smiling.
Belle nudged her. “Those two look beautiful together.”
“Yes, they do.”
Tobias shook his head. “There’s nothing worse than being unwanted.”
And that’s exactly how Tally was beginning to feel. Violet returned from her dance as night drifted over them like a black fog. She sat next to Tobias, her head leaning against him, and was soon fast asleep. Clay had worked her hard, teaching her some independence.
Even Violet would not need her soon. Then Tally would truly be alone. Her thoughts sank lower when Clay asked Rebel to waltz. With an aching heart, Tally rose, unable to watch him spin Rebel around the makeshift dance floor.
Tally would put Violet to bed and dance alone in the dugout, dreaming of Clay’s strong arms around her.
“Tobias, let me take Violet.”
“I’ll carry her,” the man insisted. “Me and Belle can put her to bed. You stay.”
As she stood, trying to think of an excuse—a headache maybe—she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Dance with me, Tally.” Clay’s voice washed over her like gentle waves on a shore. She spun around to tell him to go jump into a big pile of fresh manure. But the loneliness in his dark eyes sent her resentful words fleeing.
“Go on,” Belle whispered in her ear. “It’ll do you a world of good. You can talk.”
“In that case, I’d love to,” Tally said at last. She put her hand on Clay’s shoulder and he whisked her away into a waltz in the warm Texas night.
Clay’s hold was firm on her back, the buckle of his gun belt pressing against her stomach, his breath fanning the tendrils of hair at her temple. “I’ve missed you.”
“It certainly didn’t look like it a minute ago. You can’t take one step without bumping into Rebel. Or dancing.”
Clay let out a long sigh. “Tally, I told her I was married and things are different now.”
“Apparently not firm enough.”
Frustration tinged with anger filled his voice. “What do you suggest? She has nowhere else to go, and she’s on the run from a man in Cimarron who claims she stole a good bit of money from him. She’s asked for protection, and I won’t turn her away.”
He raised his arm and Tally turned under it. As compatible as they were in gliding effortlessly in a series of turns, they were not so in working out their marriage. In fact, they seemed to be pulling in opposite directions. She tried to block the feel of him against her, the longing in his voice, the fresh scent of him drifting around her, but his nearness overwhelmed her senses.
Yet, somehow, she had to stand her ground. “She’s in love with you, Clay.”
“Hell, she’s in love with every man.” He pressed his lips to her cheek and murmured in her ear. “It’s you I want—you I need.”
His declaration caught her off guard. Once, she would’ve believed him, but after giving her what had seemed a cold shoulder all day, it would take much more than words to rebuild what little trust she had to give.
“You could’ve fooled me.” An awkward pause filled the space between them as they moved to the music. Finally, Tally whispered, “What happened to us, Clay? You feel a million miles away.”
“If I’m not mistaken, this is what you wanted. You couldn’t have someone near that you can’t trust.”
Guilt sat thick in the back of her throat. He was right. “I didn’t want…this. I thought we’d continue to work on our marriage. But it seems you’ve already given up.” Tally stepped out of his arms and turned back to the group.
Clay caught her hand. “I don’t give up, Tally.” He released a sigh. “She’s an old friend, nothing more. How many times do I have to say it?” His dark eyes searched her face as he brought her closer. They moved fluidly across the clearing in wide circles, stopping in the shadows at the edge where lantern light couldn’t reach. “Rebel and I once had a”—he paused—“fling, during one of the darkest times in my life. I owe her for saving my life.” His warm breath caressed her face. “But it’s over. Those feelings are gone.”
Yeah, well, tell that to the Jezebel.
Tally tensed. “Are you trying to convince yourself of that—or me?”
The breeze toyed with his dark hair and he gave her a smile that dripped with sadness. “I never would’ve known my wife was the jealous sort.”
“I won’t have her thrown in my face.”
Clay’s face hardened. “That’s not what I’m doing. Sure, I got carried away at breakfast and let her dominate the conversation with our reminiscing. I admit it and I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”
At least he seemed remorseful, if his somber expression gave any indication. And to cling rigidly to her suspicions would make her look like some frumpy old biddy. Wouldn’t it? “Maybe I had everything all wrong. I want to believe you, Clay. I really do.”
A voice in her head whispered, Ask him to move back into the dugout. That would solve the problem. You told him you wouldn’t quit on him or your marriage.
The whole thing came back to trust. Did she or not?
What if he refused to move back? She’d have no hope left. If only she knew where she stood.
“What do you want, Tally? I’ve done everything you asked.”
She played with the ends of his hair that curled around his collarless shirt. “I want to go back to the way things were on our wedding day, when we were happy.”
The music and gaiety intensified behind them, and she knew if she looked, she would see Rebel dancing away in the middle of it all. A few of the outlaws danced with each other, as men were sometimes prone to do when women were in short supply.
“Maybe this will convince you.” Clay lowered his lips to hers in a searing kiss that was raw and full of need.
A new hunger sped through her like a thousand stampeding buffalos. Her knees buckled and she clung to him, cursing her weakness for this tall outlaw who gave her a good life where was once a lonely existence.
His hands slid down her back to her bottom and anchored her tightly against him. Tally parted her mouth slightly, and he slid his tongue inside to dance with hers.
As the kiss deepened, she became aware of his hard thighs pressed to hers, his jutting need. Her breath hitched and the length of her body quivered. She’d never known this hot achiness before. Desire mounted, and if they’d been naked, she would
n’t have had the strength to deny him.
When the kiss ended, it left an empty, aching void inside her.
“Clay.” She pulled him closer.
His touch, his lips, his scent were again everywhere, leaving a scorched path.
Her stomach fluttered and dipped and she clung to him to keep from falling.
Another hot, tongue-thrusting kiss left her head reeling.
He was tender and hard and passionate. A man who could draw a gun and aim in the blink of an eye, yet help a little blind girl learn to be self-sufficient. A man who could make a woman feel the most cherished in the world. His steady heartbeat pounded through his shirt.
Clay’s ragged breath came loudly. “Tally,” he murmured against her lips. “You’re all the woman I’ll ever need. Anymore and I’d lose what’s left of my damn mind. I can face off against the meanest gunman at ten paces with no problem, but, lady, you scare the pants off me.”
Tally slid her hands around his waist, pressed her face against his shoulder. She inhaled the fragrant night air and knew deep regret. “I wish I could go back and change some things. I wouldn’t have run from you, from this place. We’ve both made our share of mistakes.”
He moved her hair aside and kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear. “We have to forget about those and move forward. Someday, I’m going to make mad, passionate love to you and wipe your memory of everything, everyone, before you came here.”
Again, the voice came in her head. Tell him he can move back.
But before she could get the words past her tongue, Clay dropped his shield back in place and the closeness was gone. “I have guard duty in a few hours and you should probably relieve Tobias and Belle.”
“Yes, of course.”
They made wide, sweeping circles across the sparse grass in silence to rejoin the group as the last note from the fiddle faded.
Clay released her. “This is going to get better.”
“I hope. Thank you for the dance.” She felt so cold without his arms. “I should go to Violet. She loves the walking stick and trails you made.”