by Ava Winters
Layla blushed. He had a way with words that made her feel like a princess.
“The day you came to town, I knew there was something coming to Richstone. I wasn’t sure then whether it was something good or bad, but now I know. Only good comes with you, Layla McCarthy.”
She blushed even deeper. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I do. I look forward to showing you all the wonderful things about you,” he continued. “But I think we better get back outside now. People will begin to wonder what we’re doing.”
Layla looked up at him, slightly startled. “You’re right. I lost myself for a moment,” she said, stepping away from him and nervously smoothing the front of her dress. She had completely forgotten about the saloon full of people just outside. She was too engrossed in their time together.
“I’ll go out first.” Peter leaned in once more to kiss Layla on the cheek. “I’ll have dinner at the bar,” he teased.
Layla grinned. “That can be arranged,” she replied.
She hated to watch him walk away from her, but he had to. The last thing she wanted was for people to start talking about the two of them. Gossip was a popular pastime, and she wasn’t about to give anyone ammunition to use against Peter. They could say what they wanted about her; she didn’t care. Layla, however, wasn’t willing to risk Peter’s reputation.
Peter walked to the door and opened it, then proceeded onto the saloon floor. Layla peeked out from behind him. No one seemed to notice him, at least it didn’t appear so at first. Then, her gaze caught an angry expression across the room. It was Jacob. Peter turned at the same time and shot an identical look in Jacob’s direction before he took a seat at the bar. Layla followed him out soon after.
Lord, let them stay away from each other.
She went to the kitchen to deliver Peter’s order personally and returned quickly. There was work to be done, and she was the one to do it.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked playfully as she stood in front of Peter.
Peter smiled. “I’d like a cider.”
“A cider?” Layla questioned.
“Yes,” he replied. “It’s my favorite drink.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, looking around the bar. “Where can I find it?”
“Right down behind those boxes of whiskey. I keep my personal stash there,” he explained.
“You’ve been hiding things from me, Peter Jones,” she teased.
“Now I’m sharing it. I’ll share anything with you,” he replied.
Layla poured the drink and passed it to him. “I don’t need anything. You’ve already given me so much,” she whispered.
“It hasn’t been nearly enough,” Peter assured her. “You’ll see in time. I promise you, you’ll see.”
Chapter Twenty
Jacob sat, brooding. When he arrived at the saloon, he’d expected to see Layla behind her bar. Instead, he came just in time to see her disappearing into the office with the newly-appointed sheriff. He found a seat and watched the door. Time passed and still, they hadn’t come out. With each moment that elapsed, his anger grew. He was seething by the time the door opened and Peter stepped out with a grin on his face.
What were you doing?
Jacob wrung his hands repeatedly as he watched Peter saunter from the room. He glared at him venomously. He hated Peter Jones. He truly hated him.
You’ve been doing God-knows-what with my wife and you dare stare me down?
Jacob ground his teeth. He wanted to hit Peter, but he couldn’t. If he did, the man was sure to lock him up and Jacob wasn’t going to be trapped in any cell. Things were finally turning around for him, and he wasn’t about to let that go because his temper got the better of him.
You just wait, Peter Jones. I’m going to get her back.
Jacob’s eyes drifted to Layla as she stepped out of the office. She looked as light as a feather, a huge smile on her face. When she met his gaze, her appearance changed instantly. The sight only made him angrier. Then, if that wasn’t enough, she watched her making eyes at the sheriff by the bar. She didn’t look at him again. Jacob lingered for a long time, waiting for Layla to catch his eye, but she didn’t. Finally, Jacob had enough. He picked himself up and stormed out of the saloon.
Jacob stalked down the street to his waiting horse and quickly untied it. He threw a long leg over the horse’s back and sat up in the saddle, ready to head back to the camp. There were things he had to do. If Peter thought he could win Layla, he was wrong. He still had a dinner date with her the following night, and he was going to stop at nothing to charm her back to him.
“Get!” he hollered, kicking his heels into the flanks of the horse, and raced from town.
When Jacob arrived at the mining camp, he found his friends sitting around the fire, waiting for him. They looked up at him in surprise when they saw him appear.
“Jake? What’re you doin’ here?” Gary asked.
“I got bored,” he lied as he sat between Gary and Courtney. “How are things?”
“Real good,” Gary answered. “We collected the money from Hooper today.” He handed a small pouch of money to Jacob.
Jacob smiled. “Good. Very good,” he said as he twisted the pouch in his hands and felt the coins shifting inside. “How much gold did we get off him?”
“Two pouches full,” Courtney grinned.
“Well, my friends, it seems we’re well on our way to being rich men,” Jacob announced. “I’m sure my success in ‘panning for gold’ will make Layla very happy.”
Much more money than that fool sheriff can make.
“How long are we goin’ to keep this up?” Gary asked.
Jacob turned to him. “As long as we can. Have we ever had such a simple job before? We take and then give at the same time. It’s easy as pie, and I want as much of it as I can get.”
The others nodded.
“Get your rest tonight, boys, we’ve got a lot of panning to do tomorrow,” Jacob mused. The others laughed.
He got to his feet and walked to his tent, where he nestled down on the blanket and put his hands behind his head. Tomorrow, he’d get Layla back. It didn’t matter what the sheriff did. He didn’t have the money Jacob now had, and he didn’t have Jacob’s charm. Layla would be his again.
Jacob grinned as he closed his eyes. Tomorrow, everything would go back to the way it should be, and Peter Jones would see that he couldn’t take Layla away from her husband.
************
The next night, Jacob found himself at a table in the dining room of the local hotel, waiting for Layla. He’d made the reservation days ago, and now was the time. He had a rose on the table. The gesture was kind, something Layla would appreciate. He smiled as he patted the stem of the flower. She’d love it.
Jacob was impatient as he waited, though he tried his best to appear calm. His plan was clear in his mind—as soon as Layla arrived, he would begin the process of getting her back once and for all. He watched the door waiting to see her face. When he finally did, he got to his feet to greet her.
“Good evenin’, Layla,” Jacob said with a smile as he stepped toward her. “You look lovely tonight. Please, have a seat,” he urged, placing a hand gently on the base of her spine and leading her to her seat. He pulled it out for her and Layla sat.
“Good evening, Jacob,” she finally said.
Jacob studied her face. Her expression was aloof, but he would soon change that. “I’m glad you could make it,” he said as he returned to his seat. “Here, this is for you.” He handed her the rose.
Layla looked at him hesitantly. Then, her eyes scanned the room. “Thank you,” she said as she took the flower. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Why not? I’m doin’ somethin’ nice for my wife,” he explained.
“Quiet, Jacob. I don’t want anyone hearing you say that. I told you already. It’s over and done with between us,” Layla insisted. “I’m just here to make that clear to you.”
J
acob could feel the spark of anger ignite inside him, but he was determined to keep it down. “Now, Layla. That ain’t fair. Don’t you think I deserve a second chance?”
“You’ve had more than enough chances,” Layla whispered. “I tried for two years with you, and you refused to change. You refused to see how you were hurting me.”
“I told you, I’m sorry about that,” Jacob retorted. “I’m tryin’ to make up for it. Look,” he said, pulling out a pouch of coins to show her. “I’ve been makin’ good money down at the mine. Things are goin’ real good for me. I’m gonna be a wealthy man soon, just you wait and see.”
“That’s good for you, Jacob,” Layla answered. “It’s good that you can finally have what you want.”
“What we want. Didn’t you say you wanted a better life? I can give that to you, now—”
“I already have a better life,” Layla interrupted. “And it doesn’t include you, Jacob. Don’t you understand that? I love the life I have now. I don’t want any other.”
Jacob closed his hand into a fist to stop his temper from flaring. “I’ve been workin’ so hard for you, and you don’t even care one little bit about it,” he complained.
Layla sighed. “I never told you to do that, Jacob. I said from the start that it was over between us, but you refused to listen to me.”
“Layla,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. Layla pulled it away, but Jacob was undeterred. “Layla, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“You never loved me,” Layla countered. “Not a day. I was just a convenience you wanted to have, but I’m not that anymore. I won’t accept that, anymore. I want more. I have more.”
“More?” Jacob challenged. “What more?”
“I have a job, friends, a clean place to live, and people who care for me,” she stated.
“What about me? Huh? Do you ever think about me? What do I have?” Jacob questioned.
“You have what you’ve always had, Jacob: you have your boys. And now, you have your money. You don’t need me,” Layla answered. “The only thing left for you to do is accept what is. I don’t want this anymore.”
He kept his mouth shut before his emotions erupted. He was trying his best to convince her, but she didn’t seem to care. And he knew why.
Peter Jones.
He raised his eyes to Layla’s anxious face. She was still a pretty girl. She always had been. He wasn’t about to give her up. If Peter Jones thought so much of her as to give her the job as his manager, Jacob wondered, what he’d do if he knew she was married to an outlaw?
A sly grin began to tug on his lips. The newly-appointed sheriff would never get himself entangled with an outlaw, and that was what Layla was—an outlaw by association. She was his wife. She knew all about the crimes he’d committed, and not once had she turned him in. He was sure the sheriff wouldn’t like that.
“I think I should go,” Layla said suddenly.
“Wait,” Jacob interrupted. “Don’t go, please? We said we’d have dinner, and we haven’t even looked at the menu yet. Can’t we just have a meal and talk some more? I don’t want things to be uncomfortable between us. I understand that you think you have everythin’ you want, but I’m sure, once you give me a chance to tell you about what I’m doin’, you’ll see that we can have even more.”
“Jacob…”
“Layla, please?” he persisted. “I promise, I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he said. “I hear the menu here is real nice, much fancier than at the saloon.”
“The food at the saloon is just fine to me,” Layla said with some resentment.
“I’m not sayin’ it isn’t. I’m just sayin’ that the food here is supposed to be even better,” he explained. Her defense of the saloon irked him, but again, Jacob kept his displeasure in check.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Layla replied slowly.
“You came all the way here. You dressed up real nice. It would be a shame for you to go back home and havin’ not at least tried the food here. What kind of man would I be to invite you to dinner and then let you go home hungry?” He smiled.
Layla sighed. “Alright, but only if you agree that you won’t ask me to dinner again, and you’ll stop coming around trying to persuade me to come back. I mean it, Jacob. It’s over for me.”
“If you say so,” he replied, his anger reaching a boiling point. Peter Jones had convinced her that he was so much better than Jacob. He had her believing things she never did before. She was just fine before she’d come to Richstone, she’d understood her place and hadn’t asked for much. Now, she wanted more than he could give. What he thought she wanted, she was refusing, and Jacob was at a loss as to what he could do to win her back. His careful plan was failing, but he refused to lose.
The waiter came to the table and gave them their menus. The prices were more expensive than the saloon, but Jacob had the money. “Order anythin’ you want,” he encouraged Layla. “Price doesn’t matter,” he added with a smile.
Layla looked up at him but said nothing. She didn’t even smile. Jacob wasn’t pleased. He was spending good money on her and she wouldn’t even smile at him?
They placed their orders and Jacob continued his attempts to win Layla back. Each one failed. She refused to come back to him and, to make it worse, she even brought up the subject of an annulment. That wasn’t going to happen.
“Would you like dessert?” Jacob asked her once the main course was finished.
“No,” Layla answered. “I think it’s time I get home now.” She dabbed the corners of her mouth and set the napkin aside. “Goodnight,” she said, pushing her chair back to leave.
“Let me walk you out,” Jacob said, and quickly got to his feet. “Just wait and let me pay the bill,” he insisted. “I’ll be right back.”
Jacob found the waiter and requested the bill. He kept checking the dining room to make sure Layla was still there. What was she doing to him? He didn’t run about behind a woman. He didn’t have to try so hard to get attention, and he rarely ever failed to get it when he did so. She was turning him into something he didn’t like… a weakling.
“How much?” he asked without looking at the bill. He could barely read and he had trouble with numbers. The waiter told him the amount and he paid it immediately.
“Have a good night,” the waiter said.
Jacob looked at him coldly. “Who asked you?” he retorted, before stalking back into the dining room to where Layla stood waiting. “All done. Should we leave?”
Layla nodded but said nothing. She walked toward the door and Jacob followed close behind her. He was silent as he walked, but inside, he was fuming. He’d done everything he could and, still, she persisted in leaving him. It was Peter. He knew it was. She’d gotten sweet on him and had suddenly forgotten who she really was. She thought she could be more, just because he said so?
Jacob walked behind Layla. She was quiet and he refused to speak. Instead, he let his thoughts dominate his mind. He wasn’t going to lose. There wasn’t anything more he could do. He’d tried being nice. He’d tried being persuasive, but it was clear to him that Layla wasn’t going to yield unless he got nasty. If that was what she wanted, then that would be what she got. If she couldn’t appreciate the changes he’d made, then she’d get the man she already knew… the old Jacob McCarthy.
He walked Layla to her house. Finally, they arrived outside her door. She turned to him. “Goodnight, Jacob.”
Jacob looked at her and tried to remain calm, but it was difficult. He was looking at the woman he once controlled, who was now refusing him everything he wanted.
“Layla, for the last time. Will you stop all this and come back home? Come back to me?” he asked, one final time. This was it. If she said yes, things were well. If she refused, he would have to use other tactics. Ones she wouldn’t like.
“I told you already, Jacob. It’s over. I’ve moved on and you should, too,” he answered.
“Moved on?” Jacob deman
ded. “You’re tellin’ me to move on?”
“Yes,” Layla insisted. “You have to let me go.”
That was it. Something inside Jacob cracked. “No, Layla. I won’t let you go. You’re mine, and I won’t let you be with anyone else.”
Layla’s calm expression changed immediately. He could see the fear in her eyes and it made him feel powerful. He had her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Layla had questioned her decision to have dinner with Jacob from the moment she’d agreed to it. Still, she went, fearful he would make a scene because of it. When she arrived, she knew it was definitely a mistake. Jacob had come with a flower and tried his best to lure her with money. She’d wanted to leave immediately, but stayed for the meal, again because of Jacob’s temperament. However, as she walked home with him behind her, she could feel the discomfort rising inside her.
