“I’m afraid I’ve only been able to find a handful of gowns, but if your stay is long enough I’m sure we can arrange a modiste to come and attend you.” Willy smiled a large grin as she opened the armoire to reveal more clothing than Emmy had ever had access to in her life. And she’d called them “gowns”, not dresses—that must make them special.
As if stuck in that same trance that had led her into the bedroom, she crossed the carpet to let her fingers touch the array of fabrics and textures inside, with the same reverence Ginny had displayed earlier. The dresses were in every jewel-toned color she could imagine: sapphire, ruby, amber, emerald. There wasn’t a single dull blue, brown or black in the lot. An irrational flicker of excitement flared within her as she imagined wearing them, but she hastily beat it down as she reminded herself that she was a prisoner and not a guest at all. She had no rights to these clothes nor should she want to accept them. They were bribery, plain and simple. Hunter wanted her to accept the luxuries in exchange for her cooperation, or perhaps he simply wanted to assuage his own guilt. No matter the reason, accepting would be inappropriate. The thought made her snatch her hand back and close it into a tight fist to resist the urge to touch them again.
“You must know that I’m here against my will.” She kept her voice soft, but firm.
Willy’s smile faded, but her eyes stayed kind as she nodded. “I’m aware of Mr. Jameson’s other life, Miss Drake. There’s almost nothing you can tell me about him that I don’t know.”
“Then how can you condone what he’s done? He’s taken me and my sisters from our home.”
“It’s not for me to condone his actions. I know that he wouldn’t harm you and that’s enough for me. Though he hasn’t yet shared his reasons for doing what he’s done with you, I can assure you that they are noble ones. Please don’t judge him too harshly. You’ll find him kind and fair if you give him the chance.”
Kind and fair. The words echoed in her head. Was he kind? Yes, he had been once he’d stopped trying to scare information from her. Even then, he hadn’t been as boorish as he could have been. Was he fair? No, it wasn’t fair that he had taken her and it wasn’t fair that he had loved her body so thoroughly the night before only to take her captive again when morning came. He wasn’t playing fair at all.
Looking at the woman squarely, she demanded, “Whose clothes are these? And whose room is this?” It was unimaginable to her that such a magnificent room and such grand clothing were left unused.
“Mr. Jameson has...guests from time to time. It seemed prudent to keep clothing about.”
Mistresses. The housekeeper hadn’t said it, but the slight hesitation in her voice was enough, unless Mr. Jameson was in the habit of abducting female hostages on a regular basis. She didn’t think that was true. The thought of the many mistresses he must have had rankled, even though she had no idea why. He’d made no commitment to her. Indeed, she’d given herself to him freely without asking for one, but only because she’d thought it would be for a night and then she’d never see him again. She didn’t know how to deal with the awkwardness of still being forced to be in his presence, particularly under these circumstances. Or the awkwardness of still wanting him, if she had to be completely honest with herself. Which she didn’t. She didn’t want to remember how good it had felt to press her shoulders back against his chest the few times she’d allowed herself the small luxury on the ride here.
“And this is where his guests stay?”
The woman had the good grace to lower her gaze briefly. Wonderful. She was in the mistress’s chamber. This captivity just kept getting better, but at least it wasn’t his wife’s. Suddenly she just had to know the answer to the question that had been worrying her since the nursery.
“Is he married?”
“He’s never been married. I’m not sure he’ll ever be married.” Willy shook her head and gave a soft laugh, walking to the windows to open them to the cool morning air. “His parents are married, but they hardly ever see each other. I believe they’ve given him an unfortunate disposition on the matter.”
“Oh? His parents don’t live here?”
“Not his mother, she’s from Boston and resides there with her family. His father lives here, but with all the hubbub about statehood he spends most of his time in Helena or back East. He’s in Washington now.” The woman spoke as she made a turn of the room, straightening linens and checking the quantity of the numerous pots and bottles on the dressing table, then the housekeeper smiled at her and walked to the door. “I believe you’ll find everything you need. Night clothes are in the drawers there,” she said, pointing to the bureau. “The bathing chamber is through there, just let me know when you’d like a bath and I’ll have water heated. I’m going downstairs to finish preparing the meal. Come down with the girls in about an hour to eat.”
With that, Willy strode out of the room, leaving Emmy to wonder if Hunter’s father would care that his son had taken her hostage, but then quickly decided he wouldn’t. Hunter was a man who did whatever he wanted and everyone around him had probably become accustomed to it years ago. With a sigh of defeat, she walked to the open window and the strange chair before it. It was a soft rose color like the furniture in the sitting room, but the back was only on one end, leaving the sides on the other end completely open. She’d never seen anything like it, not even at Glory’s.
Sinking down onto the soft velvet, she let her gaze move to the window and with no outbuildings to hold her interest, it roved to the mountains in the distance. The sun was just beginning to reach its peak in the sky, burnishing the hills in gold, orange and soft shades of pink. For the first time since her bizarre meeting with the outlaws that night at Jake’s, Emmy was able to take a deep breath and feel her muscles relax as she breathed the air back out. She wasn’t free and she wasn’t even sure what the next day would bring, but she did feel safe and the immediate safety of her sisters had ceased to be a concern.
Laying her head back, she closed her eyes and breathed in the air of early spring. After a few minutes the tension began to uncoil in her shoulders and it was like a weight lifted from her chest. The rational voice in her mind began to talk the loudest and she could finally hear it. She’d slept with Hunter last night because she wanted to know how it would feel. The muscles between her thighs clenched at the memory of his powerful body moving over hers and she smiled at the tender ache he’d left behind. She wouldn’t regret their night and she wouldn’t let that other voice in her head make her think it was more than it had been. They’d both enjoyed it and it was over, never to be repeated again. She could live with that. It hadn’t changed anything.
With her thoughts clear for the first time since she’d met him, she turned her mind to what she needed to do next. Perhaps she should be thanking Hunter. He’d saved her the trip back out to the farm. All she had to do now was get the three of them back to town and on a westbound train. She couldn’t allow herself to think about what would happen if she couldn’t find a source of income quickly. She couldn’t allow herself to think of how that fifty thousand dollars from Hunter could help them.
The knot of tension returned to her belly, so she took several deep breaths and closed her eyes until it began to dissipate again. Taking it would make what happened last night something cold and unpalatable. Money would tarnish the joy. No, she’d have to accept the loan Glory had offered her and pay it back later.
Now she just had to figure out how to get the three of them away without Hunter following.
Chapter Sixteen
When she next opened her eyes, the sun had disappeared to the other side of the house, lengthening the shadows in the bedroom. She sat up disoriented and looked around the immaculate room, forgetting for a moment where she was until everything came back to her.
Oh, yes, kidnapped again.
Except this time the thought wasn’t accompanied by dr
ead or the powerful need to escape. She felt calm, secure even, and more rested than she’d felt in a very long time. Naps weren’t a luxury in which she was generally able to indulge, so that one had been heavenly after so many days of pushing herself to the limit of her physical and emotional endurance.
Yawning and stretching her back which had stiffened in the awkward position, she found that a knitted blanket had been carefully placed over her while she slept. Willy. Though she was essentially her jailer, Emmy couldn’t help a tug of tenderness in her heart at this kindness. The housekeeper had been nothing but kind to her and she’d been so thoughtful with the girls that Emmy couldn’t fault her for the actions of her employer.
As if thoughts of her sisters had summoned them, Rose’s squeals of delight found her through the open window. She grimaced when she stood and took a moment to rub her bottom and the backs of her thighs, which were a bit sore from the horse ride. Though that didn’t quite explain the tenderness between her thighs and she couldn’t help smiling about that. Pushing the sash higher, she craned her neck to see that her youngest sister was just inside the fenced stable yard off the end of the house, sitting atop a horse. A man with a wide-brimmed hat was leading her around and Emmy could tell immediately from the set of his broad shoulders that it was Hunter. Ship had always forbidden the children from riding his horses, because they were too valuable to risk them getting injured. As a result, Rose didn’t know how to ride and, to her knowledge, had never even sat on a horse before, though she must have ridden one on the way here.
Her heart flipping over in her chest, Emmy rushed downstairs and ran the few hundred yards across ankle-high grass to reach the stables. By the time she reached the fence, Hunter was lifting Rose off the horse’s back as she beamed with joy. Setting her on her feet, he turned to Ginny who had been patiently waiting her turn and helped her up to sit on its back. Emmy had already parted her lips to call out a warning, or admonish him for risking her sisters, but whatever she had planned to say died away when she saw the care he was taking with them. They were having fun.
“Em!” Finally noticing her, Rose called out and ran the few yards to reach her. “I rode a horse! Did you see me?”
Emmy smiled back at her. “Yes, I did! You looked like a real horsewoman.”
“Isn’t she pretty? Her name is Cinnamon. Mr. Hunter says it’s ’cause she’s the same color as cinnamon, but I don’t really know what that is.”
Emmy followed the girl’s gaze back to the horse and found herself agreeing with her even though her own gaze had been caught by the man staring at her. He was just as breathtakingly handsome as she remembered. Though his eyes were shaded from her, his strong jaw and a day’s growth of stubble was as tantalizing as ever. A secret thrill shot through her belly, making her jerk her gaze away to tame it. It also made her aware that her hair was probably a mess after her nap having been put into a hasty braid that morning.
“Be careful, Ginny,” she called out and ran a hand over her hair.
“I will! This is my second time,” the older girl proudly called out as Hunter began to lead her around the fenced space.
Emmy managed to keep her gaze from lighting on him again while Ginny rode around and Rose kept up the conversation. Apparently, the girls had spent the afternoon with Hunter in the stables, getting to know all of the horses. Rose told her about the two who were about to foal and the ones who’d won races. When he had told her that Cinnamon was the gentlest horse he’d ever known, Rose had asked to ride that one. Despite herself, a wave of tenderness rose within her when she imagined him taking up so much time with her sisters. She’d expected the indifference he’d displayed that morning when they had arrived. But she was forced to admit that despite the night they had met, he’d shown himself to be very gentle and caring.
Even the night they’d met he’d been such a contradiction. When he’d released her from hanging from the rafters, he’d made sure that the rope at her wrists was loose enough that she wasn’t chafed. He’d never harmed her, never really even frightened her. He wasn’t evil.
* * *
When it was time to put the horse away, Emmy was curious and followed them inside the large structure to see where the horses were kept. Fifteen stalls lined each side and it appeared that many of them were occupied. Ginny was telling her the names of each of the horses they passed, their velvet noses sticking over the low doors curious to see who had come to visit them.
They reached Cinnamon’s stall and the girls followed Hunter inside. She watched from the doorway as he showed them how to take the saddle off and brush her down. Then he let them take over the brush and picked up the saddle. Stepping out of the way to let him out, she couldn’t help but admire his well-sculpted backside as he walked away from her to swing the saddle over the bench where it was stored, lined up with a few others. The muscles in his back and shoulders bulged under his shirt as he did it, making her vividly recall how they had felt beneath her hands. Her body’s attraction to him was as unfair as it was undeniable.
“Thank you for spending so much time with them this afternoon. They enjoyed learning about the horses,” she said when he turned and caught her watching him.
“I enjoyed it, too. They’re very kindhearted. They’ll be good with horses.” He smiled back at her and crossed the short distance between them, coming to a stop just in front of her.
Emmy didn’t know when they’d have the opportunity to be “good with horses”, so she let the comment pass. Their excited voices came from just inside the stall, not far away but so engrossed in their activity that it afforded them a modicum of privacy. The sounds of men hammering came from somewhere far outside the back entrance of the stable, but they were too far away to be obtrusive. “Sorry I fell asleep. It wasn’t intentional.”
“Don’t apologize. You were tired.” He surprised her by reaching up to run the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone. Now that he was so close, she could see his beautiful green-gold eyes. Desire blazed in them, low and intense, but he wasn’t teasing her about how long he’d kept her awake last night. There was nothing there that made her feel as if he was mocking her. She didn’t move away.
“I’d like to talk to you about...things.” She wanted to persuade him to let them go, but didn’t want to close down the conversation before it got started. “Could we talk, privately?”
His eyes flicked to the girls in the stall and then back to her. Nodding, he said, “Tonight. I’ve got some work to do, but come find me in my study after dinner.” Then he dropped his hand and walked past her into the stall where he helped the girls finish up. By the time they were done, Willy was calling them from the front porch, telling them it was time to eat. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since the night before. Even then, she’d barely been able to get any food down knowing what was waiting for her with the auction.
* * *
Much to her surprise, Hunter didn’t join them at dinner. The table, which was large enough to seat twelve people, had only been set for three. The meal of succulent beef, roasted vegetables and biscuits, finished with apple pie and a light whipped cream, was the most delicious she’d ever eaten. Even the girls had cleaned their plates and asked for more, licking the sweetened cream from their fingers with relish. After dinner she took them back to the nursery where they all three played the board game with the marbles again and read a few stories from the children’s storybook Rose picked out, before Emmy put them to bed.
Only as she was kissing them good-night did Ginny look up at her with her serious blue-gray eyes. “Will we stay here for long, Em?”
“I’m not sure. Do you miss home?”
The girl shrugged. “I miss Ship, I suppose, but I like it here. Maybe we could stay and he could visit.”
“Me, too,” Rose piped up from her bed. “There’s so much to do here. I love Cinnamon. And all the food.”
&
nbsp; “Yeah, Willy cooks much better than you,” Ginny informed her solemnly.
The innocent words almost brought tears to her eyes. How many times had the girls gone to bed with only a few bites of boiled potatoes in their bellies? Perhaps Hunter had done them a kindness by bringing them all here.
Kissing them both good-night, she went back to her room to prepare for her talk with him and crossed to the mirror hanging just above the dressing table. It was just as bad as she feared. Her hair was a mess and, despite her nap, there were still dark smudges under her eyes from the lack of sleep she’d had all week. She’d been so afraid that she’d barely slept on the trail.
Plopping onto the chair, she took out the braid and picked up the brush that had been thoughtfully left there for her. After a few minutes of trying to tame the mess, she finally settled on simply tying it back with a ribbon she found in one of the pots on the table. But then she noticed a smudge of dirt on her chin that she’d probably picked up from the stable. Hurrying to the attached bathing chamber, she was delighted to find that a bowl of steaming water had been left there for her while she’d been playing with the girls. The room was small and tiled in a modest white tile that matched the gleaming, white porcelain of the rest of the fixtures.
But she hardly gave them a second glance as she hurried to clean herself up, briefly debating changing into one of the gowns in the armoire, before deciding against it. She needed to keep her distance. Her sanity depended upon her not becoming too accustomed to this place and its master. In the end, she put on the brown dress she’d carried with her from the brothel, the same one she’d changed into the night at the cabin. It wasn’t her best, but she wasn’t trying to attract him again. She simply wanted to look presentable for their talk.
Once she had walked downstairs and found it dark, except for a few oil lamps that had been turned low, and realized that no one was around, she knew that she had made the right choice in her dress. She found him tempting enough. She didn’t want to encourage his pursuit when she had a hard enough time keeping herself from wanting him. After a few wrong turns that led her through exquisitely decorated parlors and then the servants’ quarters, she found her way to his study in the back of the house. The door was open, revealing a room with a wall of windows on one side and a massive stone fireplace on the other, book-lined shelves built into the wall on either side of it. What incredible wealth this man must possess. It was a necessary reminder that any thoughts of pursuing another night with him was out of the question. What was between them couldn’t be permanent, so she was only setting herself up for heartache to even consider it.
The Innocent and the Outlaw (Outlaws of the Wild West) Page 17
