“It makes sense though,” Jesse replied. “How many big operations like that do you think this area could support? There are no big cities anywhere around where criminals could hide in plain sight. Small towns are nosy and the open prairie isn't a great place to set up camp. Too exposed.”
“It does make sense,” Dylan replied, his own thoughts churning through this new and unexpected angle. “It would also explain why small scale harassment and escalating violence completely stopped and letters started arriving.”
“Yes,” Jesse agreed. “Most likely the only part of the operation left was the group harassing Garden. When the gang got rounded up, he called in what was left to regroup. Now they're holed up somewhere… maybe Colorado? And keeping you simmering as best they can while they take stock of the situation.”
“So the threat isn't neutralized.”
Jesse shook his head. “Not as long as the real boss is around. And if the boss really is that kid's father, he won't stop. Not until he's had his revenge. On the plus side, I got a look at the guy. It was over quite a distance, but I can give you a general description. Older man. Maybe near sixty. Gray hair. Short. Walks with a limp. His voice sounded… Eastern. Cultured.”
“Jesse, I sure am glad I hired you,” Dylan said.
Chapter 5
“She said, and I quote, 'not a chance in hell'.” With a sigh, Becky sank into an armchair in Lydia's apartment. Lydia brought her friend a glass of cool water.
“I can't blame her,” Lydia replied. “Poor Allison. She looks about big enough to tip over and roll away.”
“I know,” Becky agreed. “The bigger she gets, the grumpier she gets. I'm starting to understand a bit of why Wesley is in such a bad mood.”
“Is this right?” Addie stepped out of the stairwell carrying steaming hot cake in two thick knitted potholders. “And don't take this wrong, Mrs. Heitschmidt, but are you sure your sister's not always in a grumpy mood?”
Lydia poked at the top of the cake with her fingertips and grinned. “Looks perfect. You're a natural, Addie.”
The girl beamed. In the few weeks since her arrival, Lydia had made good her promise to take the younger woman under her wing.
“Call me Becky, please, Addie, and yes, I'm sure,” Becky replied, answering the younger woman's question. “Why do you ask?”
“Well…” Addie inhaled and released the breath so her shoulders bounced. “Jesse has taken me to visit her a few times. I don't know why, but she seems to have decided I'm no good. She's cold and… kind of mean.” The young woman's pretty face twisted into sadness. “I don't know why. I mean, I know she's your sister and I'm sorry if it's unkind to say, but I think she hates me.”
Becky frowned. “I'm sorry she made you feel unwelcome. It's not her way. Allison is a blunt, plainspoken woman. Always has been. But she's usually kind and accepting. For her to be rude… I don't know. I think it might not be you at all. Her life took an unfortunate turn a few months back and she hasn't been herself lately. I'll talk to her though. It's not your fault her mother-in-law is an evil witch or that her husband is a little… off-kilter, or that she's miserable with her pregnancy. I hope I don't become that grumpy when I'm a month from delivery.” She ran her hand over the small swell of her belly.
“How far along are you?” Addie asked, changing the subject.
“Five months or so,” Becky replied. “How about you?”
“The same, I'd say,” the girl replied. “I like this part. I'm not sick anymore and I'm showing enough for it to seem real without being uncomfortably heavy.”
“I completely agree,” Becky replied. “I've heard this is the good part, and I think it's true.”
The two women smiled at each other.
Lydia felt a pang knowing she'd never experience it herself. Of course, I'll never have to be huge and miserable or suffer through morning sickness either. The pang passed and she retrieved the cake from Addie and set it on a small table. Though sometimes she wished for a 'normal' life, she had to admit she was doing well.
I own this building outright, no debt. The café below and this apartment above make a comfortable home and business. She admired the golden brocade sofa with dainty wood accents that faced her window and afforded a view of Main Street. At right angles, a comfortable cushioned armchair where Becky now sat, her knitting in her lap as she chatted with her friends. This table, a rare legacy from her family, which she'd laboriously transported across the country as she sought and finally found this place. Through a door behind her, her bedroom, equipped with a bed large enough for two. The second door, behind the sofa, led to the stairwell and down to the main floor. The third, across from the rocking chair, concealed her pride and joy. A fully equipped bathroom with a toilet that connected to the city sewer, properly connected and vented to prevent unpleasant aromas from filtering into her living space. I'm so thankful they created the sewer and connected all the homes to it the year before I arrived, after that terrible cholera outbreak. It has made such a huge improvement for the whole town. A sink and claw foot tub completed the decor. Nothing about this life to regret. I have everything I truly need for life and comfort. I even, finally, have a romantic relationship with the man I love. I'm so blessed there's no room in my life for regret.
“…at any rate,” Becky continued, “I'll talk to Allison soon, Addie. She isn't acting right where you're concerned. I don't think we're going to get her help with the founder's day food though. However, our committee of four, with a few teenaged girls Kristina recruited from the church, should be plenty to organize a pot luck, serve ice cream, and man the pancake breakfast here at the café. I'd say we're set.”
“I wouldn't have expected much from her,” Lydia replied. “With Melissa to care for, and as close to delivery as she is, Allison has too much to handle already.”
“Agreed. I'm so glad you decided to help, Addie.”
“I'm glad to be included,” the younger woman agreed. “I'm hoping to find my place in this town quickly, since my husband has sacrificed so much for us to be here.”
“You will,” Becky reassured her. “Try not to worry too much about my sister. There are plenty of kind folks around here who are happy to have you.”
“They're happy to have Jesse back,” Addie mumbled, twining a strand of reddish brown hair around her finger.
“They are,” Lydia agreed, “and that's no surprise since they missed him so much. Eventually they'll get to know you, Addie, and then they'll appreciate you for your own sake. It takes time, honey.”
Addie smiled at Lydia. “I appreciate you both so much. Oh, and Kristina.”
“Kristina is a treasure,” Becky agreed. “She seems as much my younger sister as Allison. You've got her on your side as well. You're already on the path to having your own circle of friends to support you.”
Addie's wistful smile turned genuine.
“And we're glad to add you to the circle,” Lydia said. “You fit right in as far as I'm concerned. Now then, how about we take this cake back downstairs and work on frosting it before it gets so maudlin in here we all float away?”
The three women looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“You should go,” Jesse said, lifting his gaze from the sheriff's desk where all the evidence of the train robbers had been laid out in an attempt to see something new. “Take a day off and spend time with your lady. I can be on duty.”
“Oh, go on.” Dylan waved his hand and a newspaper clipping fluttered to the stone floor. He bent to retrieve it, his belt buckle digging into his middle. “I'm sheriff. I'm always on duty. Especially when there's a public event like this. It's the perfect opportunity for our enemies to stir up trouble. Besides, you just got married. You should go to the party with your wife.”
“I've got this,” Jesse replied as Dylan placed the scrap of paper back on the desk. He rearranged the pieces and scrutinized them while he talked. “Addie's going to be running the ice cream station all day. She wants to meet folks. I
'll stop by and check on her here and there, but she's fine. In the midst of everyone is the safest place for her. I've been hearing things about you and the café lady and I think, if you want her to know you care for her, you need to spend some time with her in public. Show everyone you're proud to be her man. Women appreciate things like that.”
Dylan considered Jesse's words. “Are you sure? Don't you want to socialize with your friends?”
“I can socialize while on duty,” Jesse replied. “Never know when an idle conversation might provide a clue.”
Dylan grinned. “All right then. Hot damn, I don't know the last time I took a day off.”
“And that's why you need this. Life isn't work, Sheriff. At least, not when you have a woman.”
“Are you really giving me advice, son?” Dylan raised his eyebrows at his deputy.
“Hell yes. You may have a decade or so on me, but I've been married longer.”
Not likely, friend, Dylan thought, but of course, Jesse couldn't know that, and he didn't feel like sharing. Telling Lydia is one thing. That woman has been the keeper of my heart for years. This youngling doesn't need to know. “More than a decade, Jesse.”
The younger man shrugged unrepentantly. His grin turned impudent. “Then let this young fool offer some advice, you old donkey. Spend time with your lady. You won't regret it.”
Dylan couldn't help but chuckle. “Okay, West. You don't need to twist my arm. I said I would go.”
“Good.”
Chapter 6
The church service ended with a rousing hymn, music bellowing from the pipes of Kristina's organ to spur the congregation to solidarity, faith and service. Then she clattered down the spiral staircase from the loft and joined her husband at the door. Cody slipped his arm around her waist and they shook hands one by one with each person who passed by. Hand in hand with Dylan, Lydia approached the young couple, smiling at their united front. At first glance they appeared a strange pair. Cody's good looks contrasted with Kristina's plainness to a shocking degree. But the fire of passion burned equally in their eyes. They loved their work and each other with unwavering devotion.
“Ready for this afternoon?” Cody asked Dylan as they passed by.
“Wouldn't miss it,” Dylan replied. “See you at the river in an hour.”
As they stepped outside, the first thing Lydia noticed was a break in the heat. Yesterday, rain had pummeled the city in a mammoth gully washer. A night of breezy late-summer heat followed by a sunny day had dried out the grass, but the noticeably cooler temperature had prompted an impromptu plan on the part of the small circle of friends.
“It sure is a beautiful day,” Dylan commented as they traversed the sidewalk in the direction of the café.
“It is,” Lydia agreed. “Just look at the sky.” She indicated above them. “Not a cloud to be seen, the sun is shining and yet it's not hot.”
“I know. What a relief. Even the nights have been almost unbearable. And the rain made the grass green up a bit. This should be a wonderful afternoon.”
“I agree. Are you sure your other deputy is all right with being left completely in charge of everything while you and Jesse play around?” Lydia wanted to know. A cool breeze, redolent of the coming fall, ruffled her skirt and teased wisps of hair from her chignon.
“Yes, I think so,” Dylan replied. “Rob might be the youngest one, but he's tough. Nothing scares him. He's a crack shot and smart enough to point his gun in the right direction. Each of us needs to be able to handle things alone in case something happens to the others, and he might be only nineteen, but he chose this job.”
Lydia ran her hand down Dylan arm and laced her fingers through his. “I know. And if something bad happened to him, he chose that too. You all did.”
Dylan frowned.
I know you don't like that. You want to be responsible for your men, but law enforcement is a kind of war, and everyone understands that. You put your life on the line for the love of the job and for the pay, and it might cost you your last breath. She squeezed his hand.
Dylan squeezed back but did not speak. Lydia chose not to press. She'd made her point and didn't feel inclined to nag.
They arrived at the café, still in silence, and Lydia unlocked the door with the key from her reticule. It clunked when she dropped it back inside.
“What are you hiding in there, woman?” Dylan demanded.
She smirked. “Wouldn't you like to know?” Then, before he could grab her, she ducked into the dining room and ran, laughing, into the kitchen, where an oversized wicker basket awaited them.
With his longer legs, Dylan caught up easily. He grasped her shoulder and turned her to face him, backing her up against the door to the pantry and stepping up until his entire body was plastered against hers.
She lifted her face and met his eyes, only to be assaulted by a passionate kiss. His lips ravaged hers, his tongue driving into her mouth, pulling back and stabbing in again. It reminded Lydia of what she knew about the physical act, and she swallowed hard. She inhaled through her nose, drawing in the scent of Dylan. Fresh prairie breeze, plain hard soap and man… aroused man. She didn't need to have prior experience with that muskiness to understand what it meant.
He wants to do that with you. As his mouth claimed hers, as her body responded without the need for conscious thought, melting into his embrace, her mind drew up a confusing whirlwind of half-imagined vignettes. Of Dylan unbuttoning her shirtwaist. Of him hiking her skirt up her thighs. Of him rolling her naked onto her bed. An image of his hand lacing into her hair as he settled between her thighs made her scalp tingle.
She moaned and twisted in his grip. His hands tightened on her waist, trapping her even tighter against the wood as the fullness in the front of his jeans compressed her belly.
His lips left hers and trailed across her face to her throat, where he nipped the sensitive skin and made her shiver.
“Dylan, please,” she whimpered.
“Please what, Miss Lydia? Stop… or more?”
His breath on her skin seemed to spark an answering wetness inside her bloomers. She felt good and ached at the same time, there in that secret place, and so she didn't know how to answer his question.
“What do you want, Lydia?”
“I don't know,” she burst out at last.
He chuckled and drew back from her, smudging her lips with a tender, undemanding kiss. “How do you want to do this, honey?” he asked.
“Do what? Our courtship?”
He nodded.
“I don't know that either,” she replied. The pounding of her heart began to slow now that his intense touch had eased. “Part of me wants to claim you for good.”
His eyes turned to silver flame. He leaned in, but Lydia blocked him with a hand on his lips. “But part of me is scared to take that step.”
“Scared?” He pulled her into his arms in a warm embrace that had much less power behind it. “You don't seem scared. Your body knows what it wants.”
Lydia nodded. “I feel that, I do. But it's a big step.”
Dylan kept one arm around Lydia's waist. With the other he stroked her cheek. “It not surprising if you're a little nervous. Never done this before, have you?”
“No, never,” she agreed, eyes wide.
He nodded. “I figured as much. Try not to worry, honey. Despite what the old prudes say, making love is natural and enjoyable. If you can trust me, I can take us there.”
“Are you sure you're speaking for me as well? I've heard things… seen things that make me think only men probably enjoy it.” Lydia bit her lip, nerves and embarrassment twisting her face. That's not what Becky said, and she would know. And Kristina either. She doesn't say much, but she's never had a satisfied smile before Cody. And as fast as Allison got in a family way… Though she tried to reassure herself with logic, though her aching body urged her toward Dylan, her overactive mind couldn't put the gut-clenching nerves to rest. “What if I hate being intimate?”
&
nbsp; “You won't,” he told her, “unless you decide ahead of time you will. Nearly every woman is capable of enjoying being close to her man if she is able to get out of her head and into her body. Listen, Lydia.” Dylan raked his hand through his hair, making the luxurious salt-and-pepper mane stand on end. Lydia quickly smoothed it down, enjoying the sensation of the silky strands beneath her fingers.
“I'm listening, Dylan,” she said. “I'm not saying I'm against it or that I expect a bad time. I'm just… I'm just nervous.”
He kissed her forehead, her eyelids and the tip of her nose before settling in to claim her mouth again. How many ways does this man know how to kiss? She wondered as he tenderly urged exquisite arousal from her with delicate swirls of his tongue.
Again passion arose within her. Her treacherous body melted in his arms even as her overactive mind struggled to retain control.
He released her again. “You're going to be fine, I think,” he said, poking out his cheek with his tongue.
He looked so smug, she swatted his arm. “I'm not going to make it that easy on you, Sheriff.”
He didn't respond aloud, but the look on his face spoke volumes. Then he settled back into a more normal expression, combing his rumpled mustache with his fingertips. “All teasing aside, Lydia, how do you want to handle this?”
She stepped back out of his embrace and turned to the icebox in the corner of the kitchen, pulling out a bowl of chicken she'd fried the previous day, covered with a red-checkered napkin. She placed it in the basket before returning for bottles of lemonade. “I'm not sure what you mean.”
“Well, hmmm.” He took a moment to think.
See, smarty? How can I answer the question when you don't even know what you're asking?
“Of course the point of courtship is that we're seeing if we want to marry eventually.”
Oh goodness that was blunt. And yet joy bubbled up like a spring in her heart. “Yes, of course.”
“So we can either plan a slow courtship of a year or more, or move a little faster,” he continued.
High Plains Passion Page 8
