He didn’t love her, but he liked her, and that was enough to start a marriage. It was more than his parents had had thirty years ago when they married. Courting Jane was a perfect plan.
Too bad he was still in love with Charlie.
He groaned aloud at his predicament. Charlie turned around, a question in her gaze. Her mouth was inches from him. So very close. Her lips were plump and wet as though she’d just run her tongue along them.
Eli told himself not to touch her. She was his friend, not his lover. No matter that she’d seen him naked or that he loved her like a crazy man. She was not his to take.
But damn how he wanted to.
He leaned forward that short distance and kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her. His mouth fused to hers, hot, wet heat that shot a bolt of lightning through his body. He cupped her cheek and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth. He dove into heaven, his body disconnected from reason and any thought to consequences. She was softer than he could have ever imagined.
She tasted of peppermint and coffee, as though she’d sucked on a candy after drinking her normal morning beverage. His tongue twined with hers.
Then pain exploded on the side of his head and he was flying through the air. He landed with a bone-jarring thump on the leaf-covered ground. He shook his head to clear the pain and ringing in his ears.
Charlie sat on the saddle, her chin stuck out in a mulish angle he knew well. “Don’t ever take from me without asking, Elijah Sylvester.”
With that she rode away, regal as a queen, leaving him on the ground. His body ached to kiss her again while his jaw ached with the force of her punch.
Charlie was not meant to be his. If he didn’t know it before, he knew it now. So did she. The sooner he courted Jane and got himself a wife, the better things would be.
Chapter Four
Eli wiped his clammy palms on his trousers. Damned if a trickle of sweat wasn’t meandering down his spine. It was five thirty in the morning, barely sixty degrees, but he was perspiring like it was a hundred. This morning he was going to start his courtship of Jane.
She didn’t know it yet, of course.
His mind was made up, especially after the disastrous kiss with Charlie. His pride—and his ass—still smarted. She’d avoided him for a solid three days. That was hard to do in a place the size of Fort Laramie. She was either hiding in her cabin working or out hunting from sunup to sundown.
No matter what she was doing or where she was, Charlie made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, both with her reaction to the kiss and with her avoidance. He told himself it was for the best. Ten years of unrequited affection was ridiculous, and he had no one to blame but himself. He was twenty-eight years old, for God’s sake. He should have been married with children years ago. Instead he pined after a woman who didn’t and wouldn’t ever return his love.
He felt stupid and ridiculous. Something he wanted to stop as soon as possible. Thus he woke that morning determined to start wooing Jane. She had already shown an interest in him. He hoped all he would have to do was reciprocate that interest. He had no experience with courtship and he was awkward enough to ruin his chances.
Determined but intimidated, Eli strode toward the bakery. A few soldiers were up patrolling, along with Charlie’s sister Isabelle, her shoulders drooping, a medical bag in her hand. She waved at him and he groaned, but he walked over to her.
“Good morning, Eli. You’re up early.”
“Howdy, Isabelle. I, uh, have a lot to do today. Getting an early start.” He toed the dirt, not wanting to meet her gaze.
“Charlie told me what happened.” Her tone was full of sympathy and he didn’t want it.
Embarrassment heated his cheeks. “She ought not have told personal business to you.”
“I’m her sister and she was confused, Eli. There was no other motive. She had a rough time of it ten years ago and it changed her.” Isabelle smiled sadly. “She used to skip, sing and dance all the time. I’ll bet you didn’t know that.”
No, he hadn’t. The idea of Charlie skipping, dancing and singing was almost ludicrous.
“I’m asking you to be patient with her. She hasn’t had a beau and doesn’t know what to do around one.” Isabelle stifled a yawn behind her hand. “My pardon. I was up all night with a sick patient. I’m for home and some sleep. Fortunately Mason can take care of the boys so I can catch a few hours’ rest.” She patted his arm. “Good day to you, Eli.”
With that Isabelle walked away, leaving him in a more agitated state than he’d been in five minutes earlier. Why did she have to stop and talk to him? He didn’t want to know what Charlie had been like. He only knew her now, and the now Charlie wanted nothing to do with him. Eli had been patient—hell, he’d wanted to snort at that particular request. Ten years of waiting for Charlie to notice him as a man. Could he have pursued her? Yes, but he didn’t want to risk her friendship. Why would he assume she would fall in love with him? He should have said something, but he didn’t. Now it was far too late to correct that mistake.
Nope, he was done with Charlie Chastain. He would move on to someone who might actually marry him. Possibly even love him. Whether or not he could love another woman was one more question he didn’t know the answer to.
He strode with more speed toward the bakery, which was tucked beside the dining hall. The Flanagans had built quite a business for themselves. With many single men at the fort, the bakery never lacked for business. There were four blue-clad soldiers standing outside chewing on slabs of steaming bread. Eli nodded as he stepped inside, ignoring the whispers of “Fixit”.
The smell of the bakery washed over him and he breathed in the deliciousness. The yeasty scent of fresh bread mixed with the sweetness of something else. The warmth of the building felt good after the cool morning air.
Fergus Flanagan was a short, dark-haired man with a friendly disposition. Jane resembled her uncle in some ways, although she probably had her mother’s heart-shaped face and blue eyes. Mrs. Flanagan was the toughest of the family, suspicious and curt with most folks.
Fergus was behind the counter, serving the few folks who were inside the bakery. He nodded at Eli and continued with his business until there were no more customers at the counter. He held out a piece of his famous bread slathered with butter. Eli’s stomach rumbled and he accepted the offering.
“You know how to draw me in.” He smiled and bit into the heavenly concoction. “And you’re a wizard at baking. My ma couldn’t make bread this good if you paid her a thousand dollars.”
Eli’s mother, Harriet, was the cook at the dining hall. There wasn’t much she couldn’t cook well, but she wasn’t a good baker. Not even close to what the Flanagans could do.
“What brings you out so early today, Elijah?” Fergus had a thick Irish brogue and a ready smile.
Eli didn’t think his tongue would function at all. In fact, he stuttered and then grunted a few times before he crammed another bite of bread in his mouth and smiled crookedly at the man. How was he supposed to tell him he wanted to court Jane? He could hardly accept it himself. It was like putting a raw egg on a plate and trying to keep it steady. Impossible.
“I, ah, have work to do and, uh, I was hungry.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Hey Fixit, whatcha you doing here?” Volner appeared in the doorway, his eyes bloodshot, looking as though he’d spent the night in the pigpen. To Eli’s grim satisfaction, Volner still limped a little.
Eli’s jaw clenched. He didn’t know how to stop the foolish nickname except by ignoring it. Easier to tell himself to do that than to actually do it. What he wanted to do was tell Volner to go to hell.
“Well, ain’t you got nothing to say? You ain’t no kind of man without your hammer, are ya?” Volner stepped closer, his chest puffed out like a bantam rooster. Eli’s hands fisted.
“You plan on finishing what you started, Fixit?”
“Stop it, right now, sergeant.” Jane stepped between them, her petite form barely topping his shoulder. She put her hands on her hips. “In this bakery, everybody is welcome.”
“I ain’t meant nothing by it. I was just funning with Fixit.” Volner’s gaze promised Eli the opposite.
“His name is Elijah. I’m sure my uncle can serve you what you’d like to eat this morning.” Jane smiled at the burly sergeant until he moved away, scowling. “Good morning, Eli.”
His nervousness faded under her bright personality. She took his arm in her delicate hand. “Uncle Fergus gave you some bread already. Would you like coffee to go with it?” Her voice was sweet and light with a hint of brogue. She likely never had a curse word pass her pink lips. Who wouldn’t want to marry this lovely lady and see her face every morning and night?
“Coffee sounds perfect.” Eli smiled back at her, sure his idea to court this young lady was the right one.
He ignored the little voice deep inside that told him he was wrong. So very wrong.
Charlie sat in the corner of the dining hall alone. After avoiding Eli for three days, she was lonely and crankier than she had been. She began to think of her life as before-Eli-naked and before-Eli-kiss. Each event had sent her spinning in circles that she hadn’t yet recovered from.
Not that she knew how to recover.
Isabelle had tried her best to offer advice, but Charlie still felt as though she were afloat in a turbulent sea alone. There were days when she forgot what it was like to have a mother. Then there were days she missed Maman so much she nearly puked.
Ten years later and Charlie was a fifteen-year-old orphan in the body of a twenty-five-year-old woman. Caught in the transition from child to adult without someone to guide her, Charlie struggled to make choices that most people took for granted. She knew it, but she had no idea how to solve it. The only avenue seemed to be “the plan”. Leaving the fort would grant her anonymity and freedom living amongst people would never provide.
Her whirling thoughts left her miserable, eating her supper without tasting a bite of it.
“Good evening, Miss Chastain.”
Charlie looked up from cutting her ham to find Captain Hamilton towering over her. He held his flat-brimmed hat in his hand, and to her surprise, he was crushing it. Like he was nervous. Because of her? Impossible.
“Captain.”
He gestured to the table at which she sat. “Do you mind if I join you for the evening meal?”
Her impulse was to tell him no. She didn’t want company. She didn’t deserve it. However, when she opened her mouth, she said, “I suppose that’s all right.”
He smiled and her stomach did a flip. She blinked at both the handsome visage of the man and her reaction. What had Eli done to her? She never looked at a man as a man until she’d seen what was beneath Eli’s clothes. He’d then had the balls to kiss her. She did him a favor by not shooting him, although she really, really wanted to.
Now she was turning into a…a female.
The captain returned with a plate of food and sat down. He shook out a napkin with a snap and placed it on his lap. She watched him, frozen in place by the revelation that she found him attractive. Her. Charlotte Chastain, the toughest woman in the territory. What the fucking hell was going on?
He set his hat down on the bench beside him and then looked up at her. The captain had nice blue eyes and russet-colored hair, with a matching mustache. He was not much older than her, if not younger. His skin was still pale from wherever he’d come from. Being out in the territory gave everyone enough time in the sun and wind to cause coarse skin. This soldier was too pretty to be a captain of the rough soldiers at the fort.
“Thank you for letting me join you.” He waited until he chewed and swallowed before he spoke. Definitely a gentleman.
She shrugged. “The dining hall is open to everyone. It’s not my table.”
“Still, since you’re alone, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She snorted. “Not likely, captain.”
“Kenneth. My name is Kenneth.” There was that smile again.
“Well, Kenneth, I should probably tell you about me since you seem to think I’m a lady or at least a decent female.” She watched his reaction, which was only a tiny widening of his eyes.
“Go on.”
“I wear britches every day. Haven’t worn a dress in at least seven years and don’t plan on it, no matter what my sister thinks. I cuss. A goddamn lot. I make my living by hunting for others, then I sell the skin, sinew, bones, hooves and any other part of the animal I can make useful. I’m in blood up to my elbows half the time.” She took a bite of her ham and deliberately spoke as she chewed. Let him see the full effect of all that was Charlie Chastain.
Kenneth wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I know all this about you.”
Charlie scowled and swallowed the bite in her mouth. “How?” Her gut clenched. Had he been spying on her?
He shrugged. “I asked people and I spoke to your sister. I also met you already, if you remember.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Fine. Why did you follow me and ask questions about me? I’m not pretty. I’m cranky and as unfemale as you can be and still have tits. So tell me why.”
At this, his gaze dropped to his plate. She had the sinking feeling he’d made a bet and she was the prize. Or he was going to ask her to butcher a cow for him. Or something equally as awful.
“I grew up in Philadelphia, the son of a wealthy banker. I had all the privileges and advantages I could ever want.” His mouth twisted. “I hated it.”
She rolled her eyes at that piece of foolishness. “Of course you did. ’Cause living out here in the west is much better than a fancy mansion with servants.”
This time he frowned. “It’s better for me. There’s freedom so wide and deep I can taste it.” His expression grew animated and to her surprise, more handsome. Appealing.
“That still doesn’t explain why you asked about me or why the hell you’re sitting here with me.” Charlie wasn’t angry at him, but she was damn well frustrated.
“I like you.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Again, why?”
He cocked his head, his blue eyes thoughtful. “You don’t think very much of yourself.”
That particular barb hit too close. She pointed at his food. “Eat your food and shut up or get the hell out of here.”
He should be insulted. He should get up and walk away, then stay away. Instead, he went back to eating. Charlie stared open-mouthed. What was wrong with this man? Was he stupid or a glutton for punishment?
“You have lovely eyes.” He scooped a forkful of beans into his mouth. “Although your face is the most striking feature you have.”
Charlie’s stomach bounced up to her throat and then down to her feet, landing with a splat. No one had ever called her lovely or striking. Kenneth must be blind, stupid and foolish.
“You can’t possibly mean that.”
He frowned. “I don’t lie. I joined the military because of my belief in justice and truth. There are too many people who spend their time lying to themselves and everyone else. I might be a fool for telling you what I think, and I might do something stupid like try to kiss you, but I do not lie.”
Charlie couldn’t speak. Her voice had flitted away at his words. Kiss her? How had the world spun sideways in a week where not one but two men wanted to kiss her? She believed Kenneth. There were few people in the world she trusted or believed. Somehow she believed the captain told her the truth. She still didn’t know why.
Before she could rethink her action, she picked up the knife beside her plate and speared his sleeve to the table. To his credit, he only blinked and met her gaze.
“I hope you can mend that hole.” He frowned.
“Why are you here and why have you gathered information about me? No more shit, Kenneth.” She spoke through her teeth, emotion making her voice thick. She didn’t want this man to cause a reaction inside her. Keeping herself safe from everyone was too important. He had broken through her defenses without a fight.
“You intrigue me. You’re not like the rest of the women here. You’re tough, no-nonsense, and you know one end of a gun from the other.” He met her gaze. “The perfect soldier’s wife.”
Holy shit.
Chapter Five
Eli buttoned up his best shirt and tucked it into his trousers. He ran his hands down the fabric and wished he had a mirror to see how he looked. All his life, he’d avoided his reflection—until he decided to marry Jane. Now he wanted to be sure he looked his best.
It shouldn’t matter how he was dressed, but it did. Eli had scratched out his living since he was a child. He cleaned, carried and delivered whatever he could manage to heft into his arms. When his father died almost fifteen years ago, Eli had to become a man even if he barely had a whisker on his chin. His mother had no one except Eli and he had no other option but to work. His education had been minimal, but he could read, write and cipher.
His father had died on their way to Oregon, and like Charlie and her sister, Eli and his mother had to choose to settle in the Wyoming Territory or buck the odds to try to make it the rest of the way alone. His mother was tiny in stature but tough as hell. She got a job working in the kitchen of the eating establishment at what was then Fort John. Now she ran the dining hall, planned the meals and managed the other two kitchen workers.
Eli started by cleaning the slop bucket, sweeping floors, digging outhouses and shoveling horse shit. It wasn’t until he fixed the well head pump that he caught the eye of Mr. Johnson, who had run many of the areas of the fort until the army took over. It was Mr. Johnson who first called Eli “Fixit”, and the moniker stuck.
The Gem: The Malloy Family, Book 12 Page 4
