by Jodi Thomas
“Come on.” He pulled the sack of burox from his pocket. “Mrs. Kruger sent these,” he said as he began unwrapping one and offered it to her. “They’re delicious.”
She eagerly accepted the beef and cabbage–stuffed roll and began eating it like she was starving. “Thanks,” she said between mouthfuls. “I was hungrier than I thought.” She took another bite and smiled over at him.
Hunter took the whiskey from his other pocket. “Don’t have anything to offer you to drink other than this.” He held out the bottle. “It’s either drink direct from the bottle or I guess I could go find a dipper in one of the horse stalls.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had whiskey straight from the bottle.” She raised an eyebrow mischievously, and he heard a little bit of playfulness in her voice.
“I’m not asking any questions.” He was just glad she was distracted for even a few minutes from what was bothering her. “Remember, this isn’t just plain ol’ rotgut, it’s Jack Daniel’s, Tennessee’s finest.”
Laurel barely took a sip. The smile she shot him carried a tad of amusement, and for the first time she seemed to relax. “Thanks.” She handed him the bottle and wiped her mouth. “Do you still own the building where your sister had her millinery shop?”
“Yes. Guess you want to sleep in it?” he teased, thinking a little off-the-cuff humor might keep the mood light, but she just shot him a withering glance.
She didn’t waste any time getting right to explaining why she’d asked about the shop, including her plans to open another millinery shop and provide the ladies of Farley Springs the newest in fashion.
Hunter sat there for a minute or two taking everything in, then said, “Tell you what, I won’t rent it, but when you’re ready, I’ll lease it to you for one dollar a year.” He looked in her face, and laid a hand on her arm. “Cash in advance, please.”
For the first time a true smile crossed her lips. He wondered if she had any idea how sexy she looked. Her moon-kissed hair glittered. Her skin was smooth and velvety.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Leaning into him, she kissed him on the cheek.
The woman disturbed him in ways he didn’t think possible. Without thinking, he slipped his arm around her and pulled her to him. A lurch of excitement exploded within him as he tipped up her chin and brushed his thumb along her jaw. Emerald green eyes smoldered with fire.
“You have beautiful eyes,” he whispered.
“And you’ve got ...” She ran her fingertips along his unshaven jawline. “A perfect chin even with that little scar where your sister used a cottonwood limb for a saber,” she said softly. “You didn’t think I’d remember, huh?”
“You don’t forget anything.” The undeniable magnetism they shared boiled over between them. He took her hand and pressed it against his cheek and they locked gazes. Courage and fear shone from the depths of her green eyes.
Her skin was even softer than he’d imagined, her scent more alluring. Honeysuckle and ivory. A heady combination in any woman. A man could live forever and never find a more perfect woman. She had a way of touching him that made him burn with wanting.
Desire fisted in his gut, heating his blood as he continued to study her. He needed to taste her full lips, to see if she was everything he thought she’d be. And because he wanted her so badly, wanted her kiss, her touch like some men need to ride the wind, he dropped his hand and fought against the ache inside him.
Hunter knew she needed him, but not in a physical way. When the time was right, they’d both know it and nothing would make him stop. Right now he’d settle for a kiss.
Slowly they slipped down as one and lay with their bodies meshed with one another.
Hunter couldn’t resist touching her again. Dipping his head, he brushed his mouth across hers so gently it was barely a whisper. He parted her lips and his tongue slipped inside to dance with hers. He savored the taste of whiskey and sweetness, loneliness and longing, and knew he’d never be able to get the taste of the kiss off his lips. His heart thundered out of control, and an overwhelming hunger set off a blaze in his gut.
He locked Laurel in an embrace. Devoured by his kisses, she allowed him to caress her. Their ragged breathing echoed in the silence of the night. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Hunter felt the thudding of her heart beneath his fingertips as he touched her breasts, and he knew she felt his show of how much he wanted her pressed hard and heavy against her. Dangerous! She was much too dangerous. A gentleman would never take advantage of a venerable lady, and no doubt Laurel certainly fell into that category.
It took everything in him for Hunter to pull himself away from Laurel, if only an inch, but he knew it was the right thing to do.
Neither spoke, just embraced one another, enjoying what might have been.
“Good night,” he whispered as he pulled her tighter against him. “If you won’t go with me, then I’ll stay with you.” He kissed her on the forehead and closed his eyes, taking in the smell of fresh hay, a spring night, and moonlight.
Hunter’s soul told him he needed to protect Laurel, but how could he protect someone who didn’t want to be protected?
Chapter 11
Hunter opened his eyes and stretched. A thin seam of orange and red peeked over the eastern horizon, and he knew the sun would follow in only minutes. He rolled to his side and watched Laurel as she slept. Amazed that he’d gotten such a good night’s sleep in the bed of a supply wagon, he needed only one glance at Laurel Dean to remind himself how easy it was to rest when he held a beauty like her in his arms. He kissed her on the forehead.
Laurel stirred and opened her eyes. “Good morning,” she said as she wiggled a little, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for staying with me.”
“You’re welcome,” he said as if he’d spent the night in her chambers and was waking up to a cup of hot coffee handed him by a butler.
“I need to go over to the Coyote Bluff and check on things before we leave for the ranch.” The truth, although he did need to check in at the saloon, he planned to get some cash to loan Laurel until she got her first paycheck. He knew she’d fight him tooth and toenail if he tried to give it to her. He’d make it plain that it was only a loan, because he knew she was too proud to take it otherwise.
Laurel pulled herself up to a sitting position and he followed.
“I need to freshen up and I’ll be ready to go.” She touched his cheek with her fingertips, something he had quickly become accustomed to. “Take your time. I have everything I need here in my bag and I bet Andy won’t mind if I borrow a bit of water.” She broke into a radiant, leisurely smile.
“We’ll have breakfast at the ranch, if that’s okay with you.” He combed his hair with his fingers and rubbed his scrubby day-old whiskers. “Then you and Mama can get together on your new job responsibilities.” He picked up his Stetson, brushed off some of the dust, and put it on. “You are taking the job, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said in an assertive, confident, yet sensual-as-hell voice.
Jumping from the wagon, he reassured her that he wouldn’t be gone long. He made a mental note to freshen up a bit and shave while he was at the saloon, if time allowed. He wanted to get Laurel away from town and out at his ranch as quickly as possible. No doubt whatever had sent her to the wagon yard wouldn’t waste time finding her as soon as the sun was up.
Hunter sought out the blacksmith, who was busy with the morning chores. The smithy looked like he’d been ridden hard and put away wet, so no doubt last night’s poker game had lasted into the wee hours of the morning.
“You’re up early, Campbell,” Andy said as he threw a blanket over the horse he was saddling. “Gotta get him ready bright and early.”
“Gonna be a busy one, so gotta make hay while the sun shines.” Hunter leaned against the gate.
Andy asked, “Heard the meetin’ for the men to decide exactly what we’re doing to raise money is supposed to be at two o’clock.”
Hunter shook his head, and tried to keep the smirk off his face. “Yep, two o’clock, and it’ll be full of surprises, so I’ve gotta get back to town as soon as I take the supply wagon out to the ranch. Can you have the horses ready in about thirty minutes? I’ll saddle my horse when I’m ready to leave.”
“Sure. Will have your team hitched and waitin’,” said Andy.
“Uh ...” Hunter wasn’t exactly sure how to tell the smithy about Laurel, but straight and to the point was probably the best. He could make his own assumptions if he so desired. “Laurel Womack is out there right now and will be going back with me.”
“She’s just sittin’ out there?”
“No ... well, yes. She’ll freshen up a little before we leave, so if you could afford her some courtesies, I’d appreciate it.”
“Reckon I have some of them hangin’ around.” Andy stopped and gave him a look that reeked of “I’ll ask you no questions, and you’ll tell me no lies.” He just smiled and went back to work.
Although the sun was barely up, the town seemed as busy as a beehive on honey day. Hunter didn’t get half a block before he came face-to-face with the owner of the hotel, who swished the weekly newspaper in front of him as though it were a weapon. “So this is what you had in mind. Sell us all down the river for a calico!” Dobson was anything but calm. “I thought we were meetin’ today to come up with a plan, but you in your holier than thou ways decided on your own—”
Hunter cut him off. “Wait a damn minute, Dobson. I don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.”
“This.” The hotel owner wielded the paper in front of Hunter. “Your announcement about the moneymaking project to pave Main Street.” Ire rose in his voice. “The damn street you’re standing on right now. The one that won’t get paved, so the railroad will be certain not to come to our fair town.”
Hunter snatched the paper from Dobson and began to read the headlines of The Springs Gazette:
1ST ANNUAL VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION
At a meeting of a number of representative men of Farley Springs held yesterday at the Sundance Saloon, belonging to the mayor’s mother, in answer to a previous call for the purpose of considering means of providing an interest to pave Main Street, Mayor Campbell announced that the Farley Springs Men’s Club will hold a Boxed Supper and Dance on the Saturday before Valentine’s Day. Benefits to be derived from the festivities will go to the project.
Laurel Dean Womack, niece of banker Gideon Duncan and the newly elected President of the Farley Springs Women’s Society, also announced that in conjunction with the men’s benefit, the newly formed women’s benevolent group will hold a barbeque and free beer. Donations will be accepted and directed to building a library to be erected in a structure in a radius of one mile of the town of Farley Springs. The necessity of the distance is apparent. Come one, come all ... free beer, dance, and fun!
A second article below caught Hunter’s attention.
Banker Gideon Duncan, a known advocate of the coming of the railroad to our fine community, told the Gazette, “Laying aside all discussion as to the advantages or disadvantages of a railroad coming through Farley Springs, it is almost an indisputable fact that not another twelve months will have passed until the shrill cry of the whistle and the roar of the iron horse will be heard in the land. Farley Springs will do everything possible to have railroad facilities in that length of time, but if we fail, we can rest assured some part of the Panhandle will succeed. We base our predictions on the fact that, according to late reports, work will commence soon.”
Hunter didn’t even have time to absorb the implications of what he’d just read before half a dozen men surrounded him and the hotel owner.
A variety of accusations were thrust around and tempers flared about how the men’s plans had been sabotaged and speculations on how it’d gotten into the paper.
“This has to be the doing of Gideon Duncan,” said one man, while another accused the owner of the newspaper of trying to interfere with everything they’d done to get the attention of the railroad.
An anger like Hunter had never felt before coursed through him as more allegations whirled around him like dust devils on a windy day.
Had he been duped by Laurel Dean? Even his own mother? Had Laurel lied directly to his face? She had assured him that she was not involved with the women’s group, yet it was plain by the newspaper article that she not only was involved but was its leader.
Had she deliberately distracted him and made him feel sorry for her just so the women could undermine the men’s group?
But what he couldn’t understand was the second article quoting her uncle about the railroad coming to Farley Springs.
Had Laurel turned his head and tricked him? Did her uncle instigate it? After all, she’d offered no reason for the argument between her and her uncle.
Hunter had just been used by a woman and was stupid enough to let it happen. He wouldn’t blame the men if they decided to tar and feather him. If he could, he’d do it to himself.
“There’s a note on the Gazette’s door that the printer has gone fishin’ and there won’t be another weekly newspaper out for two weeks,” said Cal, who appeared from the Sundance, along with another group of men. “The coward. He’s the only one who knows who wrote the article.”
Furor engulfed Hunter. Not only was Laurel seemingly in cahoots with the Wilson sisters and his own mother, not to mention lying to him, but they had printed what he said at the men’s meeting, but changed the date from the fourteenth to the Saturday before, knowing every cowboy who owned a horse would ride to town for barbeque and free beer.
Now the men were stuck with a boxed supper and dance, which wouldn’t bring in enough money to pave the floor of the Coyote Bluff Saloon with sawdust.
Hunter turned his back on the grumbling crowd and stalked toward the livery, gripping the newspaper for dear life.
Stubby came abreast of him. “How can you let a calico catch you so off guard?”
“I don’t know how she pulled it off, but I’m fixin’ to find out.” Hunter continued on, leaving Stubby standing alone in the middle of Main Street.
The one thing that bothered Hunter more than being made a fool of was ... how did she pull this off when he was with her almost continually the last twenty-four hours?
Reaching the wagon yard, Hunter stopped in front of the Triple C wagon. No Laurel in sight. The horse blanket was gone, but her bag was exactly where she’d put it last night.
Andy came up behind him. “Lookin’ for Miss Womack?”
“I certainly am.” Hunter didn’t even try to cover the contempt in his voice. “Do you know where she is?”
“Wish I did, but I don’t. Buckey’s gone, too.” Andy shook his head. “I sure don’t think much of her being out on him alone, but the good thing about the buzzard is that he’s like an old whore at a barn dance—he’ll roam all day long but always comes back with the one who brung him.” He laughed, then grew serious. “I’m not certain who rode him out of here because there was so much commotion around here.”
“What do you mean?” Hunter’s heart jumped. “Who all was here?”
“Might ask me who wasn’t. Greta Garrett and that wacky Victoria Duncan was here flappin’ their gums and raising all kinds of hell with Laurel.”
Hunter’s misgivings increased by the minute. He paused to catch his breath, his fears stronger than ever.
“Do you know what it was about?”
“Mainly the two were yammering at Laurel, and she was doing the listening, but I didn’t hear anything in particular except Greta telling her that she’d warned her once and guessed she needed a lesson on leaving another woman’s man alone, but I’m pretty sure she was here when they left, but I’m not certain.” He spit tobacco in the dirt. “Figured it was just gals gettin’ into a catfight, so I didn’t pay much attention to them.”
“You said there was a lot of commotion. What else was going on?”
&nbs
p; “Mind you, I was mucking the stalls pert near the wagon yard, so that’s why I could hear what I did.”
“Who else was here?” Hunter grew impatient.
“Laurel’s uncle showed up about that time.” Andy spit out another stream of tobacco juice. “I was close enough to hear them. Gideon and her were going at it. She was givin’ as good as she was gettin’, but I thought a couple of times I might have to go out there and break it up. Mind you, if he’d laid a hand on her, I’da been there for sure.”
“So how did it end up?” Hunter asked, becoming more uncomfortable with the situation by the second.
“Gideon said something about how he’d changed his mind and he wanted her to come to work for him at the bank but she’d have to move back home first. She told him something about opening a shop or something. He was really loud and obnoxious, then they seemed to settle down. Or at least I didn’t hear him yelling as much as before, but about that time the Wilson sisters came to get their carriage, so I had to go back out front to meet them.”
“So you never saw who Laurel left with?”
“Nope. Now that I think about it, I never saw any of them leave. Once the Wilson girls got on the road, headed towards your place, I suspect, it was all quiet and nobody was in sight. Not even Buckey. Still can’t imagine Gideon letting her ride him. Like I said, he’s skittish as hell, and if he gets a chance to get away and run off, he’ll do it. Almost gotta hobble the hammerhead, if you want to keep him around.”
Andy and Hunter walked back toward the wagon, and Hunter heaved himself inside. Grabbing Laurel’s bag, he felt around inside until he came across her Derringer.
No way in hell had she left her bag and her gun behind if she had willingly gone with anyone!
Laurel Dean was missing, and Hunter planned to go to hell and back if need be to find her and get some answers.
Chapter 12
