His commitment, coming so unexpectedly, as it had, and at such a rapid pace, left her head spinning a web of pure joy. She felt like singing and dancing and laughing. She felt like loving this man.
Reaching her lips toward him, she winked. “I’m not sleepy.”
“Neither am I, honey. Neither am I.”
While his hands set fire to her body, his words ignited her soul: I love you, I love you, I’m through with leaving.
And while his lips traced wet and tantalizing circles over her skin, his commitment to stay with her brought her senses to life, senses which from the time he first entered her life had felt benumbed with the prospect of loving him and losing him.
His commitment, coming as suddenly as a blue norther to a spring sky, set her free. Free to love, to live, to laugh and cry. His commitment, freely given, had set her free to belong to him, to hold to him, to depend on him.
And when his body filled her own, his love suffused her being, bringing a wholeness she had never known nor ever expected to know.
Afterward they lay in each other’s arms, he tracing circles on her back with lazy fingers, she running her own fingers across his strong jaw, struggling to contain the joy that burbled within her like a brook singing in springtime.
“I don’t remember being this happy since I was a child.”
He nipped kisses across her face, drawing a wayward strand of hair through his lips. “I feel it too, honey, like I could dance all the way to town without my boots on.”
She laughed. “And to think how we started out: me thinking you a gunfighter, you thinking me a floozy.”
He laughed with her, thankful they could now smile over such things. “Want to know a secret?”
She nodded, delighted.
“You’re the first woman I ever slept with who didn’t charge for her favors.”
His honesty caught her off guard; for a moment she didn’t know quite how to respond.
“Not that they all charged me,” he corrected with a wicked grin.
She kissed him sweetly, striving to keep a grin from her face. “Laugh now, Kale Jarrett, because later you may decide that I charged more than all the rest taken together.”
He nipped her lips. “How do you figure that?”
“I cost you your freedom.”
Suddenly the mood turned serious. Their gazes locked, delving, pledging, recording. Finally, he shook his head, wonderment reflected in his eyes.
“No, honey, you set me free—free to love you like you deserve to be loved every day of our lives.”
The following days were idyllic for Ellie. She and Kale spent much of their time on horseback, riding the pastures where Kale inspected the livestock and made plans for their future.
“By next spring we should be able to make a drive,” he said one night after supper when they sat side by side on the front porch step.
“To Kansas City?”
“Or Dodge.”
“How long would you be gone?”
“We,” he corrected.
She looked askance. “You’ll take me along?”
Slipping his hands down her shoulders, he tickled her rib cage. “I wouldn’t consider leaving you at home. Don’t you remember what I said? I’m never going to sleep without you beside me again.”
“Then let’s go to bed,” she whispered.
The Circle R men appeared less frequently at the rock shelter now, and things generally quieted down.
“How will we ever settle Benjamin’s murder?” she asked one morning.
Kale sighed. “We need help,” he admitted. “Carson will contact us when he returns from Mexico. Maybe he can figure out what to do next.”
A week after the family left, Lavender Sealy came calling.
“I’ve been trying to get out here ever since those brothers of yours paid a visit to the Lady Bug, Kale, but we’ve been busy as a mama sow at feeding time.”
Immediately upon entering the house, Lavender had visually inspected everything, including Ellie’s bedroom, the spare room, and Ellie herself from head to foot.
“You doing okay, baby?” she asked while Ellie busied herself fixing a pitcher of lemonade and Kale went to the barn to help Snake water and stable the mare.
“I’m…ah, fine,” Ellie answered, hesitating, discarding the word wonderful. If she showed too much enthusiasm, Lavender could be counted on to pry into the most intimate details, and Ellie had no intention of sharing her blissful new relationship with anyone.
“He’s treating you all right?”
“Of course he is.”
Lavender peered again into the front bedroom.
“Lavender,” Ellie chided, carrying a tray with four glasses and the pitcher of lemonade. “You’re too nosy.”
“I’m worried about you, that’s all.”
“Don’t be.” She smiled, a smile that turned suddenly into a conspiratorial grin. “He asked me to marry him.”
Lavender perched her fists on rounded hips. “He did, did he?”
Ellie set the tray on a stump Kale had sawed for them to use as a table on the porch. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” she asked. “Wasn’t that the reason for all these new clothes?” She fluffed the sleeves on her brown gingham dress.
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
Ellie laughed. “Well, it’s too late. We’ve already made up our minds. And Lavender, I’ve never…never…been so happy. I never even imagined a person could be so happy.”
“Humph!”
“What does that mean?”
Bootsteps coming around the side of the house alerted them. Kale, followed by Snake, stepped onto the porch.
“Howdy, Lavender. How’s business?”
“What do you care?”
“Lavender?” Ellie scolded.
“I hear you intend to marry Ellie,” Lavender probed.
“That’s right.” Kale took the glass Ellie held toward him. He watched her offer another glass to Snake, then sit down on the top step. He squatted on his heels beside her, possessively rubbing her shoulders with his free hand.
“Soon as it’s proper,” he added.
Lavender glanced toward the interior of the house, then glowered at Kale. “You call this proper?”
Ellie’s mouth fell open. She watched Kale’s jaws tighten. Color rose along his neck.
“That’s quite enough,” she admonished. “Stop playing mother hen and tell us what’s been happening in town.”
Lavender studied Kale, then turned her attention to Ellie. After a moment her gaze softened, and she relented. Fishing into her reticule, she withdrew a couple of envelopes and handed them to Kale.
“Gabe over at the telegraph office asked me to bring you these wires. Said they’ve been sitting there going on a week now. Don’t know why you haven’t been into town to pick them up.”
Kale tore open the first envelope and scanned the contents, leaving Lavender to Ellie.
“We’ve been busy,” Ellie told her.
“So it seems.”
Ellie sighed. “I’ll go fix supper.” But when she started to rise, Kale caught her hand.
“Wait a minute, honey.” His eyes darted to Lavender’s at his slip of the tongue; their gazes held. He wondered what bee she had in her bonnet.
“One of these wires is from Sheriff Yates up at Fort Griffin,” he told Ellie. “That soldier’s still hanging on.”
“Wonderful,” Ellie sighed.
“And the other one’s from the State of Texas,” he continued. “Benjamin filed on this place just like I figured. Matt Rainey’s bluffing.”
Ellie squeezed his hand. “Good. Now we know who our enemies are.” She glanced toward Lavender with an exasperated grin. “All of them.”
“Don’t look at me,” Lavender objected. “I’m on your side, baby. I don’t like you being gossiped about, that’s all.”
“Who’s gossiping?” Kale demanded.
“Word gets around,” Lavender told him. “Folks talk.”
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“I’m her brother-in-law.”
“And you’re young and randy, with a reputation to match. Staying out here alone since your kinfolk left, well, it’s raised some eyebrows.”
Ellie squeezed Kale’s hand. “I don’t care.”
“I do.” He lifted her fingers to his lips. “I won’t have them talking about you. We’ll get married right away.”
“It’s mostly Costello,” Lavender admitted. “And most of that’s likely jealousy. Still—”
“That sonofabitch,” Kale hissed. “I’ll have his hide.”
“No,” Ellie soothed. “He isn’t worth a fight. Words can’t hurt us.”
When he objected further, she closed the topic. “You two find something else to talk about while I run to the smokehouse for one of those turkey breasts for supper.”
Later, she recalled those words, wondering how such an innocent suggestion could have turned into so devastating a nightmare. But it did.
At the smokehouse she selected a plump turkey breast that had been smoking going on a week. It should be just right by now. Returning to the house, her heart fairly sang. What did she care what folks in town said. She was happy; Kale was happy. They would marry in time, that was assured.
Assured…until she approached the house to the clamor of a heated argument between Lavender and Kale.
“Costello’s a damned liar!” Kale raged.
“The words came from your own brothers, not from Costello. I had heard you were bad news, but knowing Benjamin, I didn’t put much stock in it. Now you’ve involved Ellie in this disgusting arrangement—”
“It isn’t like that, Lavender. I can explain—”
“What’s there to explain? That telegram confirms the motive. The wandering brother now has a ranch of his own.”
“Damn it, Lavender, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”
“I wouldn’t have believed Benjamin Jarrett could have come from such heathen stock,” Lavender hissed. “Drawing straws for her like she was no more than a horse at auction.”
“Drawing straws for Ellie was Zach’s idea.”
“And you won, then sent the others packing so you could have free rein with her. Over my dead body—”
“My brothers didn’t say that. It’s not—”
“Yes, they did. They told Costello all the gruesome details. Drawing straws for Ellie,” she repeated, “like she was no better’n a horse—or a slave.”
Drawing straws for Ellie…Dear God in heaven!
Time screeched to a halt for Ellie in that one sickening moment. The world stood as still as if forever had come to pass right here in her dusty yard. She watched her life flash in front of her eyes: her parents’ murders, being tossed from one uncaring relative to another, finding Lavender, finding Benjamin, finding Kale. The reel of disasters rolled on endlessly, as in the mind of one facing death.
And wasn’t that what she faced…the death of her dreams? Of love and happiness and, yes, even the death of her livelihood.
If Lavender was right—and who could dispute Kale’s own brothers? If Kale’s motive for deceiving her was to take the ranch, she doubted not that he could do it. What judge would award a ranch to a widow when the deceased’s brother stood by to claim it?
As suddenly as time had stopped it began to spin again, threatening now to explode inside her brain. How could she ever look him in the face again? She must get away. Away.
If she were to lose this ranch as she had just lost Kale, she couldn’t bear to stand by and watch it happen.
Dropping the turkey breast to the swept yard, she retraced her steps, stopping at the barn. Struggle though she did, coherent thoughts could not break through the swirling mass of confusion and despair that crowded into her brain, filling her head to the point of exploding.
Blinded by tears, she saddled her horse, giving no thought to where she would go. Then the idea of Kale following her loomed as a specter in her tormented mind.
Quickly she led the other horses from the barn, even Lavender’s carriage mare. Turning them loose toward the creek, she slapped each rump in turn to set them on their way.
Then she climbed into the saddle and raced out of the barn, kicking the horse’s flanks with her soft-soled shoes. Past the house, she rode, headed for she knew not where. She simply had to get away. The wind tossed her hair. Passing the porch, she heard voices above the clatter of her horse’s hooves. Shouting voices, calling, pelting her as with stones with the sound of her name, the sound of Kale’s voice, of Lavender’s.
Satisfaction over getting away, over leaving them afoot, filled her muddled brain for a time. She gloated on it, seeing Lavender race about, ordering Snake to catch up the mare, seeing Kale—seeing Kale.
The image of him set her heart to pounding even faster than it already did. Kale, his sky-blue eyes melting her soul. Kale, helping around the house even after his family came and there were women to do chores. Kale, his husky voice calling her name, “I’m coming, Ellie,” or “How’s this, Ellie?” She’d had her way with him.
That she had. How agreeable he had been, cooperating, helping, loving. She’d had her way with him, and she had taken it as a sign of his commitment.
She felt his hand on her shoulders, caressing her, filling her with fire and desire. Lust, she had called it.
Lust, he had agreed.
Lust and love, they decided.
Except now there was no love. Now she knew, had heard from his own lips, that there never had been any love.
She rode with abandon. Feeling the wind wet against her face, she realized she was crying. Angrily she swiped at the tears with the back of one hand, a futile gesture that served no purpose except to dry her cheeks for more tears.
Heedless of her destination, she approached a creek and was surprised to find herself well on the way to town.
Town. The Lady Bug. When her horse splashed into Pecan Creek, Ellie felt the cold water splash against her legs where her wadded-up skirts had left them bare. The chill somehow settled her mind a bit, as though it had been splashed on her face, recalling the icy waters of her own creek where she loved to bathe.
Suddenly she drew rein and dismounted in the middle of the stream. While her horse watered, she splashed the icy water on her head and felt it swirl around her legs. It filled her shoes and tugged at the bottom of her skirts until they became waterlogged and heavy. She wrung them out and tucked them inside the band of her pantaloons before remounting.
The water had invigorated her. Combined with the chilly autumn wind, it helped clear her mind. The Lady Bug…of course. Where else did she have to go? What else did she have to do with her life? Nothing.
By the time she reached the fancy pink house, her anger had settled like a stone, leaving her with an encompassing sense of doom. She chided herself for playing the fool. Why had she entertained such highfalutin notions?
Love, for heaven’s sake! What did someone like herself know about love? Very likely, she decided, climbing the stairs and entering through the front door Lavender had forbidden her to use, very likely no such thing existed.
The ache in her empty heart was from the loss of companionship, that was all. The loss of companionship, and perhaps a lingering of lust.
Off-key notes came from the piano in the parlor. Daisy’s thin-voiced soprano warbled a bawdy tune which called forth poignant memories: the camaraderie of the family seated around her porch, Kale’s objection to the pirate ballad, Kale’s robust baritone voice, Kale’s tenderness.
When she slammed the rose-etched front door behind her, Lavender’s chimes rang out, bringing her sharply back to reality, back to the only thing she need recall about Kale Jarrett: his deception.
The chaos inside the pink walls lightened her mood with its familiarity. The Lady Bug, after all, was home. At the sound of the chimes, Poppy rushed into the entrance hall.
“Ellie, what’re you doing here? Lavender went out to see you, and she’s awful late getting back. We need Snake in the gaming
room, and we need—”
“Don’t worry,” Ellie told the distraught girl. “Lavender’s right behind me. You can handle things until she returns.”
But the idea of Lavender returning set Ellie’s pulse to racing. Kale, too, would come. Her skin flushed. What then? What then, indeed?
“Ellie, are you all right?” Poppy’s eyes traveled her tumbled-up length, took in her wet clothing, her red, tear-filled eyes.
“I just need to change clothes.”
“Oh, sure. Use my room.” She glanced into the parlor, then back at Ellie. “Things are a little slow at the moment. Look inside my wardrobe, you’ll find some everyday things; I’ll bring a pitcher of hot water. Would you like some tea?”
Ellie shook her head. “Brandy.”
She hadn’t intended to do such an outrageous thing. But rummaging through Poppy’s wardrobe, her hands touched silk, reminding her instantly of the last time her hands touched silk, green silk. As though someone had struck her heart with a hot poker, she felt suddenly wounded to the core. What little life remained inside her cried out, demanding to be heard, sweeping her with a wave of defiance so powerful she knew that if anything could smother her hurt, this would.
When Poppy returned with the pitcher of warm water, she almost dropped it on the floor. “Ellie! Get out of that gown. have my hide!”
Ellie preened in front of the looking glass. “It is wicked, isn’t it?” She smoothed her palms over the boned red silk bodice, what there was of it. Turning sideways, she lifted her hair atop her head and studied the way her breasts fairly ballooned from the scanty strapless garment. The red silk stopped on a line even with her uplifted nipples, leaving only a stiff ruffle of black lace to fan over the upper swell of her breasts. “I’ve never worn a strapless gown before,” she said. “Do you think it will stay up?”
Poppy rolled her eyes. “It’ll stay up, Ellie, but it isn’t you. You were raised to walk beside a man, not to flounder beneath him.”
The words hit her recently restored composure dead on, bringing a flood of tears. Quickly she twirled away from Poppy. The calf-length red skirt swirled over black petticoats, exposing black fishnet stockings and red silk slippers.
Poppy grasped her by the shoulders and turned her around. “Baby, what is it? What’s happened?”
Sweet Autumn Surrender Page 21
