by Linda Broday
“Last night I woke up drenched with sweat, and for a second I thought I was back there about to be hanged,” Brett murmured.
She nodded, hungering to touch him, to curl up in his arms. “It’ll take some time, I reckon. For both of us. When I woke up here at Mabel’s, I panicked. Staying alive has often depended on quick thinking. A muddled brain always spelled trouble for me.”
Panic washed over her as he stared deep into her eyes, almost clear down to the blackness she wanted no one to see. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through. From what little you’ve said, it wasn’t easy.”
Talking about herself made her skittish. But the way he looked at her…if she didn’t watch it, she’d tell too much.
Things that were better left unsaid. Like the blood on her hands that she couldn’t wash off. Killing a man tended to stick in your mind, even if it had been justified. “Brett, we never had that talk you promised. At your ranch, it can be like it was before. No one will even know I’m there.”
“They’ll know.” His solemn face was like an iron fist closing around her heart. “I admit that things are complicated, but I didn’t bring you here to dump you. Life in Battle Creek is different from anywhere you’ve been. You can finally grow and flourish.”
“I can do that on the Wild Horse.”
“No.” He brushed back her curl then suddenly dropped his hand as agony crossed his face. “I won’t let them look down on you and call you names.”
“I’ve been called names all my life. Spat on when I walked by.”
“It’s not only names. Being with me is dangerous,” he said softly. “I’ll find you a good job where you can make an honest living, something you can be proud of doing.”
Crushing disappointment and confusion swept over her. He’d seemed to hint at something more between them. Hadn’t he? Or had she only desperately hoped for love and made it fact, like she’d done with other things so often in her life? “I told you I didn’t want to be somebody’s problem. Not ever again,” she said tightly.
But she was a problem—Brett’s problem.
“You won’t be after you learn a skill other than the one that landed you in jail. Helping you make a new life is the best I can do. Forget about me and the things that happened between us. Rayna, we can’t pretend anymore.”
Unexpected pain shot into her chest.
Frightening stillness washed over her. There was always stillness before a storm crashed down around her. “I’ve been pretending all my life.”
She watched Brett wince as his piercing brown stare met hers. “Rayna, I never meant to hurt you. I was wrong, and I led you to believe things that just aren’t possible. This world isn’t safe for people like me, and if you were mine… I just couldn’t do that to you. I can’t offer more than friendship, but if you’re willing, we can give that a try.”
Though he’d wrapped the words in gentle softness, they left a harsh sting. She’d been stupid to believe that a man like Brett would want her in his life for real. She didn’t need protecting. She needed someone to hold her. “Why did you bring me here, buy all those pretty things? What is the real reason?”
Brett glanced away. “I wanted to give you better than what you had.”
A layer of ice formed in her veins. She was nothing more than a shivering mutt he’d rescued from the side of the road.
Her chin rose. “I understand everything. You said you took me from the jail because you saw someone worth saving. I can save myself. I don’t need you. You’re no better than those tambourine bangers always preaching that I’m bound for hell.”
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she continued, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “You consider it your duty to care for the poor, pitiful bone-picker’s daughter.” Her lips trembled. “I can manage on my own. You can keep your pity and the fancy clothes and shoes.” She whirled and ran toward the house.
Rayna had gotten only a few steps when Brett caught her arm, halting her progress. His dark eyes glittered like stones. “Pity? Is that what you think? Lady, the last thing I feel is pity. Good God! I said what I did just now because I don’t want false pretenses between us. You deserve honesty.”
What she deserved…how about a handful of broken dreams and empty hopes?
Nothing ever changed—hope and despair just repeated in one endless cycle. Over and over and over again.
She jerked free. Plopping down on the porch steps, she untied her kid leather boots and hurled one at him. He caught it with ease. Infuriated, she threw the second one. She muttered an oath when he made a left-handed catch, his dark brows knitted.
Shooting the buttery-soft footwear as well as the man holding them a glare, she raced into the house and up the stairs.
By the time she made it to her room, the burning behind her eyes materialized. Silent tears trickled down her cheeks. She swept the purchases of that morning onto the floor and curled up on the bed.
She had to get out of Battle Creek.
But how would she be able to leave when her heart desperately wanted to stay?
Ten
After a few minutes, Rayna rose. She unbuttoned the new dress that Brett had bought her in Hawk’s Landing on the way to Battle Creek and left it on the floor like a puddle of melted dreams.
She stared at the dress for several heartbeats then went and picked it up. Sitting on the side of the bed, she smoothed the folds. Never had she worn anything so fine. After thinking a few more minutes, she folded it neatly and stacked it on top of the purchases from that morning. Getting her old patched dress from her little burlap bag, she shimmied into it, then pulled on the pair of dried, cracked men’s brogans.
How sad that she could slip back into her old life as easily as she’d slipped out of it.
Only this time it felt a little dirtier than before.
She glanced down at her ragged dress that had seen her through some tough times. She should’ve known she could never be a lady. It had been a wasted effort to try. A lady wouldn’t have thrown shoes no matter how mad she got.
No wonder Brett didn’t want to marry her. She didn’t even know how to act, much less any of the other things ladies knew about.
She began to pace, thinking about what to do. A knock at the door made her jump.
“Dear, supper is ready,” Mabel announced. “Brett and his sister and nephew are joining us.”
Embarrassment crawled up her neck. She couldn’t face Brett after what she’d done. She wanted to dig a hole and pull the dirt on top of her. “No thanks, Mabel. I’m not hungry.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you ill?”
“No, ma’am. I’m fine, just fine.”
“I’ll leave something out for you in case you change your mind later.”
“Thank you, but I probably won’t be hungry later either.”
She might not eat anything again. The knot in her stomach was growing.
So Brett had decided to stay in town. Most likely to get acquainted with the sister he hadn’t known he had. She was glad. They needed this time. She imagined they had lots to talk about.
Her thoughts went to Adam. He struggled under a load much too heavy for a young man. Sometimes a body never figured out the world and his place in it. She was still trying after all these years. But if anyone could get him on the right track, it would be Brett. He had a gentle soul.
Anger no longer burned in her stomach. She realized she’d been the one in the wrong, not Brett. The fault lay with her and her bad habit of thinking things meant more than they did. She hadn’t listened to what he’d been trying to tell her because she hadn’t wanted it to be true. She wasn’t sure she agreed that it would be too dangerous for them to be together—that the world they lived in wasn’t ready for that—but she believed he thought so, and she had to respect that, even if it stung.
At least she could cherish his friendship.
But how would she ever be able to face him again, to look into his eyes and see nothing except what could have
been? She’d offered the only thing she had—her heart—and he gave it back. Staying in Battle Creek would be pure torment.
Rayna waited until she was sure everyone was eating supper, then she crept down the back stairs that came out into the kitchen. Quietly, she eased the door open and escaped into the cool night air.
A short while later, she stood in front of the Franklin Stage Lines staring at the schedule posted on the outside of the locked building. The first stage left at 8:15 the following morning. Though she didn’t much care where it went, she froze when the words said Steele’s Hollow. The second departure was to Corsicana.
That would work. But the cost was one dollar and fifty cents—a hefty sum.
Maybe she should give up on the stage. She thought of borrowing a horse like Adam had but quickly dismissed that. They hanged horse thieves.
Bad as they were, her problems were trivial next to horse thieving.
Sitting down on a bench, she stared at the men going in and out of the Lily of the West Saloon across the street. A tinny piano’s lively tune drifted in the breeze. She couldn’t keep from tapping her foot. While she waited, a plan crossed her mind of how to obtain money for the stage ride out of town.
It wouldn’t take any skill to reach into the men’s pockets and lift a little change. She wouldn’t take it all. They wouldn’t even miss it.
A little voice inside her head whispered, You promised Brett you wouldn’t do this anymore.
But that was before. Now she was nothing but his problem—exactly what she’d never wanted to be.
Well, she’d soon remedy that.
Rayna rose and crossed the street to the brightly lit establishment. She stood to one side of the bat-wing doors, testing herself.
One drunk then two stumbled out and into her.
“What’cha doin’, lil’ darlin’?” the short one mumbled. “Wanna ha…have some fun?”
When she didn’t answer, he lurched back and forth, trying to navigate the boardwalk that evidently pitched and dipped. She took a deep breath. She was ready. She decided that the next drunk through the door would be her target.
The second stumbled far worse than any of the others, and the strong stench of liquor nearly knocked her down. She shivered when he turned his mean, icy stare on her. Before she chickened out, she deftly slipped her hand into his pocket and felt some loose change.
Intent on her task, she nearly screamed when a hand clamped around her wrist.
“No you don’t,” a man’s voice said in her ear.
Rayna swiveled and peered up into Brett’s dark eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to save your pretty neck. I thought you might try something like this. Did you forget your promise to give up a life of crime?”
“That was before I learned I had made a fool of myself in believing I could have my dream.”
“Hey,” the mean-eyed drunk hollered, “what is your hand doing in my pocket, girlie?”
“Only a mistake, mister,” Brett apologized. “I surprised her just as you fell into her. She didn’t mean anything.”
The drunk pulled himself to his full height, straightening his vest. “I should com…complain to the sheriff.”
“I assure you, there’s no need. We’ll move on.”
Giving a huff, the man staggered to his horse at the hitching rail.
Brett took her arm and propelled her to a bench a good ways down the boardwalk. “We need to talk.”
The night air seemed to quiver like the hitch between thunder and lightning.
“We’ve done that,” she pointed out. “Go back to your sister. You’ve done your duty. I don’t need you to keep saving me.” The sharp glare she hid behind should’ve hurried him on his way. Instead, he sat down beside her.
He stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles as though he planned to stay awhile. “You might not need me, but you’ve got me, and right now, I’m the only thing standing between you and a jail cell. I thought your promise meant something.”
The pain of disappointing him again shot through her, breaking sharp pieces off along the way. In trying to fix the problem and relieve him of his burden, she’d made things worse. She had to get away before her resistance vanished and she did something even more stupid.
Why couldn’t she learn how to do things the right way? She felt as though she always lagged behind everyone else. Despite racing to catch up, she never could.
When she tried to rise, he held on to her. She gave a deep sigh. “I didn’t plan on breaking my word. I was trying to help, but I have this teensy little problem—no money. In my desperation, I saw all those drunks at the saloon. Picking pockets was the only way I knew of getting out of town on the morning stage.”
Even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t true. She’d walked for days across the prairie to escape her father. She could walk now.
Had a part of her truly wanted to get caught?
Brett was silent so long she thought he wouldn’t trouble himself with a reply. He reminded her of the different seasons that no one could rush.
Finally, he spoke. “I don’t want you to go, Rayna. I thought earning your own money would allow you freedom to pick and choose. You wouldn’t have to depend on marriage for the security you want.”
“I had some dreams once—and hope.” She hated the bitterness that crept into her voice. “But I learned that hoping and dreaming were for other folks, not me.”
Brett took her hand. “That’s crazy. Those aren’t allotted only to certain people. Anyone can have them.”
“Not me. My heart can’t take any more blows.”
“Courage is getting back up once we’ve been knocked down. Shame is in not trying. I’ll help you get back up.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to. I see a spark inside you just waiting to flare brightly.”
“My father hammered into me that people like us don’t get to be normal…or liked. We’re outcasts. We stay with our own kind. I made a mistake in forgetting that.”
“As Cooper would say, that’s hogwash. You’re just as normal as anyone. Stop limiting yourself.”
Rayna inhaled the fragrant breeze, wishing she didn’t have to keep hobbling the yearning welling up inside, at times so strong she couldn’t breathe. “I have to. It’s a lot less painful. If you don’t pin your hopes on things, your heart doesn’t get broken as often. Our fight is my fault. I have this problem of always thinking things mean more than they do. It’s just that I wanted so bad for what we had to be true that I got lost in pretending.”
He hesitated only a moment before putting his arm around her shoulders. “If I was able to take a wife for real, I’d want it to be you. But I’ll never marry anyone. I’m a color no one appears to have a particular fondness for.”
“It doesn’t make any difference to me. I see your heart, not your skin.”
“Thank you, but it does matter a great deal to some.”
Rayna rested her head on his shoulder. “Not to the people of Battle Creek. Mabel told me everyone loves and accepts you.”
“This town is only one place in thousands, and the resentment others harbor outside of here would fall to you also. I refuse to let that happen. No one will hate you because of me.”
“It’s not because I’m no lady?”
“No. I swear it.”
“Do you think all this hating will ever change?”
“I hope so.”
Relief flooded Rayna. “Then I will wait for you.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder and sat up straighter. “I’m volunteering. I will wait however long it takes.”
“Change may not happen in this lifetime,” he warned.
“Then we’ll try to hurry it along.”
“Dear sweet Rayna, I wish others could see things through your eyes. So you’ll let me try to help you?”
“I suppose.” Rayna picked at a loose thread on her patched
dress. “I’ll need something to do while I wait for the world to get some sense.”
“In the meantime, I can’t be anything but a friend.”
“I’m glad. I need a friend.”
“Let’s get you back to Mabel’s.” Brett rose and pulled her to her feet. She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I have to say that you have an awfully good pitching arm. Maybe I can find you something that requires throwing things. What else are you skilled at?”
A layer of sadness and misery lay beneath Rayna’s laugh. She didn’t want to discuss the only two things she was good at.
The bottom of her skirt swished against Brett’s moccasins. She cast him a sideways glance as she changed the subject. “What did the doctor say about Adam?”
“Only a sprain. The boy’s lucky. I’ll spend tonight in town. When I head out to the Wild Horse, I’m going to take him with me. I have a feeling the best thing is distance between him and his mother. Also, hard work. In my experience, that seems to be an excellent attitude adjustor.”
“Seems to.” They walked in silence for a minute. “Brett, I’m sorry for getting angry. Thank you for coming after me.”
“You’re welcome.”
With her arm tucked in the curve of Brett’s, Rayna’s heart settled. She swallowed the last of her resistance and bitter disappointment.
As they passed under the shielding overhang of a big evergreen tree, away from the glare of the saloon lights, she turned to stare into the dark shadows of his face. “Could I have something to remember the time when someone almost loved me? One final kiss? After this moment, we’ll be nothing but friends.”
“I don’t think that’s wise.”
She sensed Brett’s yearning as he raised his hand to touch her, only to let it fall.
Powerful need for one last feel of his fingers on her skin gave her the courage to beg. “One light brush of the lips between friends here in the darkness. It won’t mean anything.”
“Rayna…” The word came out hoarse and wounded.
Tingles raced up her spine as he gently traced the curve of her lips, as though he, too, was filing a memory away. She lowered her lids in an effort to soak up the sensations. Her breath hitched when his sensuous mouth touched hers.
