Ace's Wild (Hqn)

by Sarah McCarty

  She was aware of a soft murmur of new voices, the jostling of being moved. Hands undressing her caused a hiccup in her peace. She started to fight, but then she heard his voice again. Ace had a wonderful voice, deep and melodic. Commanding. He’d told her she was safe, and as long as she could hear his voice, she was. She cuddled into the next words, not even sure what they were, just listening to his deep drawl, letting it soothe her. Ace always felt soul-deep good.

  She whispered, “Thank you.” Or she thought she did. There was a breathy little sound, a vibration in her throat.

  “Why is she moaning?”

  “I imagine because the bed feels good.” Hester’s voice was an unwelcome intrusion, too brusque and too matter-of-fact when she wanted that masculine touch of safety.

  “Do you think she really hears us?”

  “Yes, she can hear us,” Hester said.

  “Then why isn’t she talking? The woman talks nonstop. She could talk a fly off a pile of shit given the inclination.”

  That was not a flattering analogy and not even entirely accurate. She didn’t talk all the time.

  “I imagine because she doesn’t want to think.”

  Yes. Hester understood.

  “Maybe she won’t remember.”

  There was a sensation on her forehead. Comforting, awkward but comforting, as if the person wasn’t sure quite what to do, and she could understand that. Clouds were a delicate business. One had to be careful. She liked that he was careful. She liked a lot about Ace. She focused on his smile, the way his lips stretched back revealing those even teeth and the chip in the left canine. It was an imperfection, just a slight one; not much but she liked it. It gave him a sense of vulnerability. She liked the thought of him being vulnerable to her.

  “When is she gonna wake up?”

  “When she’s ready.”

  “When will that be?”

  Hester snorted. “You said yourself, she’s a stubborn woman. Might not be for a spell.”

  “I don’t like this. She should be up.”

  “And screaming?” Hester asked. “And ranting and raving? Leave her alone, Ace. She’ll deal with what happened when she’s ready.”

  “I don’t want her screaming.”

  The covers lifted up over her shoulder.

  Petunia was glad he didn’t want her screaming because she had no intention of screaming ever, of giving in, of breaking. She was a strong woman, and no one moment would define her unless she chose the moment. The thought, just saying that, opened a crack in her defenses. Memories crept through like fingers of a nightmare tickling her consciousness, tugging at her cloud, darkening her moment. She turned away, closing that door, pushing it back. This was her cloud, and she didn’t want it dirty.

  The hand stroked across her forehead again, cupped her cheek as natural as the next breath she took.

  “What did Doc say?”

  She knew it was Ace’s thumb that stroked her lips and slid along them, bringing back the memory of his kiss. Oh, my, that man’s kiss. It made her a stranger to herself. A wild, wanton, entirely happy stranger. She wanted to melt into him, give to him, be for him, just from the touch of his lips. Her breath caught but not in a bad way.

  “That she’d be fine so there’s plenty of time for you to get yourself cleaned up,” Hester said.

  “I’m staying,” Ace said.

  Yes, stay with your thumb on my lips and your kiss in my memory. Stay.

  “She’s going to need you when she wakes. A woman of Petunia’s courage and determination won’t hide long. When she does, she’s going to need her friends, but right now you’re just in the way.”

  “I could use a bath,” he admitted.

  “And then some.”

  “Shit.” Ace’s hand left her; the bed rocked. His presence left her, and she was alone on her cloud holding tight to its fragile softness while the nightmare fingers pried at its edges.

  “Come back when you’re clean and rested. Not a minute before. A shadow of a man won’t do her any good.”

  No, she didn’t need any more shadows.

  “I’ll be back,” Ace said.

  Pet clung to that. There was more talk. She didn’t care. Ace was coming back. It would be all right. He’d promised.

  * * *

  A KNOCK AT the door jostled her cloud.

  “You needed me, Hester?”

  Petunia recognized Luke’s voice. The fingers pried the crack open a little wider as she was fighting them back.

  “I need you to help me get her into the tub.”

  “But she’s dressed. You want to put her in the tub dressed?”

  “Her clothes need washing anyway, and she’s not ready to part with them just yet.”

  Petunia fought the hands that lifted her, fought the nightmare reaching in, struggled as she was lowered down, no, not down.

  Soothing heat wrapped around her. Stinging at first, but then soothing her aches. The crack in her safe place sealed shut as pleasure enveloped her. She moaned.

  “Shit, am I hurting her?”

  “I’m thinking for the first time in a couple days, she’s feeling good.”

  “You sure?”

  There was a snort. “When you soak in that tub in the bathhouse, how much pain do you feel?”

  “I guess she’s not hurting.”

  “Of course, I imagine you have some sweet young thing running her hands over you...”

  Luke’s hands left her. “That’s quite the imagination you’ve got there, Hester.”

  “I know men.”

  There was a pause.

  “You don’t know me, but you might want to start.”

  “Why? You are who you are, and I am who I am, and there’s never a time those two can meet.”

  “I don’t know where you get your notions from, Hester.” The floorboards creaked. “But you’ve got the wrong end of the cat.”

  “I don’t even like cats.”

  He snorted. “So you keep telling me.”

  There was a click as the door shut and another snort from Hester. “Like I’m fool enough to take that man serious.”

  More water poured into the tub. The warmth spread out around her. Petunia sank into it. She drifted in the tub the way one drifted on the cloud, buoyed by the water.

  “Lean back, honey.”

  A hand behind her neck tilted her head back. Water poured in a gentle stream over her hair, once, twice, many times. It felt so good, like summer rain on a brutally hot day. She focused on the sensation, and the rip in the seam mended again but the stitches were there. Big, awkward and weak but at least they were there.

  “I can imagine what happened to you, honey, and it’s happened to many women before.”

  She wished Hester would just pour the water and not talk.

  “It’s a shameful thing but it’s not your shame. The shame is on the men, but I don’t imagine you’re thinking that right now. But down the road you remember, all right?”

  The scent of rosemary wrapped around her as Hester’s fingers massaged her hair.

  “Those boys went to town, didn’t they?”

  She didn’t know what she meant. More water poured over her head. A cloth wiped at her face.

  “We’ll get this all off you, and you’ll feel better.”

  She felt better already.

  “You’re lucky you have the man you do. Not many men would have gone after you. Not many men could have brought you back, but Ace did.”

  Yes, he had.

  But that was all later, and right now she just wanted to stay in this tub, floating in the water, floating on her cloud until she floated away like nothing had ever happened. That’s all she wanted.

  Time passed. She didn’t know
how much. Hester chatted. Petunia didn’t know about what, but when Hester tried to get her out of the tub, she knew one thing. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  * * *

  WHEN ACE KNOCKED on the door an hour and a half later, he expected to be greeted by Pet’s anger, at the very least a sharp “go away.” He would have preferred either to the way he’d left her lying there like a ghost of her former self, pale and listless like the spirit had already left her, and she was just waiting for the body to follow. He would never let that happen.

  He knocked again. A hard tap of heels across the floor preceded the door being thrown open. Hester stood there, the front of her gown wet, locks of hair falling free of her bun in tight curls. Her eyes were as red as her face.

  “You do something with her!” she said, stepping back and flinging her hand at the tub.

  Ace took a second to take in the scene. The problem was evident. Pet sat in the tub, her lips slightly blue, looking amazingly content.

  “What the hell?”

  “She’s gonna catch her death,” Hester said. “I can’t add any more water to that tub without overflowing, and I refuse to throw another bucket out that window to drain it out.”

  “She been like this since I left?”

  Hester nodded. “She won’t get out of that damn tub. You try to take her out of that tub, she goes for your face, tooth and nail.”

  That explained Hester’s battered appearance.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Hell, a little thing like her couldn’t hurt me.”

  Ace looked at her again. For all Hester’s talk she really wasn’t that big. She was a curvy, kindhearted woman who’d had a tough turn at life, but she wasn’t a giant.

  He walked over to the tub. He could see the gooseflesh on Petunia’s white shoulders where her chemise pulled away. He could see the slight rise of her breasts beneath the water, the pucker of her nipples against the now transparent cotton shirt, feel the utter desolation of her spirit.

  Hester came up behind him. “The only joy of my evening was when one of those buckets of water landed smack-dab on Brian Winter.”

  “Has he given you any trouble?”

  “Well, not before I dumped that bucket on his head. But he did say afterward he was going to see the sheriff.”

  Ace nodded. “Do me a favor, go fetch Luke.”

  “Why would I want to fetch that man?”

  “Because I want to talk to him, and he needs to talk to the sheriff.”

  “You don’t need to talk to him for that.”

  He cast her another knowing look. “Do you think he hasn’t noticed the way you’ve been avoiding him of late?”

  “It’s not of late. I’ve been avoiding him from the get-go.”

  “Agreed. You want me to talk to him, or do you want to talk to him?”

  “If you talk to him—” with a jerk of her chin she indicated Pet “—do I have to deal with her?”

  “Somebody has to.”

  “Then I’ll talk to him.” She waved her hand toward the tub and headed for the door. “That is yours alone.”

  Through the whole conversation, Petunia hadn’t moved. She just kept skimming her fingers slowly across the top of the water, humming some song. He wasn’t even sure it was a song. It was just noise under her breath, even and slow, in rhythm with her breathing. Kneeling by the tub, he caught her hand.

  “Hey.” No response.

  If it was any other woman after any other event, he’d force her to look at him, but Petunia had been through enough, more than he’d probably ever know, more than he ever wanted to know. And no doubt in the way of women, she felt somehow it changed her, but it didn’t. Not in his eyes.

  “Hester says you don’t want to get out of this tub. Any particular reason you’re sitting there freezing your tits off?”

  The words were chosen deliberately. He wanted to shock her. Not even by a ripple did he see any sign of it. She was well and truly entrenched in wherever she had gone. Taking the passive way out when his Pet was a fighter.

  “You get her out of there yet?” Hester hollered up from the street.

  He went over to the window, not because he necessarily wanted to answer Hester but because he didn’t want to stand there anymore and look at what he’d caused to happen. Leaning out the window he saw Hester standing with Luke. Neither one looked happy, but he could tell from the set of Luke’s shoulders that the woman had his whole attention, and it dawned on him that the reason there was always those sparks between Hester and Luke might just be because there was something else between them, too. Damn, that would be complicated.

  Luke always had a perfect image of his perfect woman in his perfect world. Hester didn’t fall anywhere near that, but the woman had a heart of gold. Maybe Luke couldn’t see that, or maybe the whole problem was that he did. Ace stored the information for later.

  “No!” he called down. “She’s just lying there like a potato popped out of the field.”

  “She stays in that water much longer, she’s going to catch cold.”

  “Well, what do you suggest I do to get her out that you haven’t already tried?”

  Luke looked at Hester then up at Ace. He said, “I always find that getting the woman riled tends to move them out of a stuck spot.”

  “You want me to piss her off?” He looked over his shoulder. He didn’t think even Brian White could piss her off in her current condition.

  “I don’t know. What do you usually do with women who aren’t doing what you want?”

  Find their weakness. Find their security. Play one off the other until the friction was the only thing in their world, the heat the only thing they could think of and him the only thing they could cling to.

  He looked over his shoulder again. And smiled. “Good idea.”

  Hester gasped. “Ace, she’s not one of your saloon girls, don’t you go...”

  Luke grabbed her arm and shoved her down the street. “Hush, woman. The man has an idea,” he heard Luke say as they moved down the street.

  “Where you taking me?”

  “You wanted to go see the sheriff.”

  There were more words back and forth, but he couldn’t hear them anymore. The film of dirt on the upper half of the window blurred his reflection, softening the angles of his face. He and dirt got along fine. It was the whole proper whitewashed civilized world that he had an issue with.

  He returned to the tub. But maybe in this instant Petunia didn’t need a civilized man spouting civilized nonsense. Maybe she just needed someone to make her understand, to tell her who she was, to show her how she mattered. He took his hat and hung it on the top of the poster. That he could do.

  Taking the empty bucket off the floor, he carefully siphoned some of the water out of the tub. It was cold, colder than the lake. He dumped it out the window without even looking. He guessed he didn’t hit anybody from the lack of shouts below.

  “Figures you’d have to have a front-facing bedroom,” he said. “A room in the back would have been much more convenient.”

  Two more trips and the water level was depleted enough that he could go downstairs and get some hot water off the fire. It was heavy work lugging it up the stairs, which explained all the wet marks on the stairs. Through it all, Pet sat there, her fingers making small circles in the remaining water. Little by little, he added hot water to the tub. He tested it; it was still cool. The second bucket brought the water up to her waist and the heat to acceptable. He set the buckets on the floor and reached up to the top button of his shirt.

  “You understand,” he said as he unbuttoned his shirt, “that if I do this there is no going back?”

  Still no response.

  “If I bring you into my world, you won’t be satisfied with any other man.”

 
That wasn’t technically true, but he intended to make it so.

  “I fought this for a long time, but you tempted me too long and once I make you mine, that’s it.”

  That might have been a twitch in her fingers. Cooler air hit his chest as he tugged his shirt free of his pants and tossed it onto the bed a few feet away. His undershirt came off next. She didn’t move as he kicked off one boot then the other, just stayed in that place that he hated, and as each article of clothing hit the floor, his anger grew. And so did his determination. When he stood naked by the edge of the tub, his own words came back to haunt him.

  There’s no going back.

  “I hope to hell you know what you’re doing.”

  He wasn’t sure who he said it to, her or himself, but in the end, it didn’t matter. The line had been crossed. The decision made. With his hand on the middle of her back, he pushed her forward. She went easily with no resistance. He took it as agreement.

  “On your head be it, my Pet.”

  The double entendre didn’t hit him as wrong, which should have been a warning sign but he was pretty much past warning. He’d always been the type to go for what he wanted, to play the odds, to take the chance. He might not have ever played for stakes this high, a woman’s sanity was a hell of a thing to risk, but his instincts had never steered him wrong, and right now every single instinct directed that he lift Pet up and slide in behind her.

  Water sloshed as he sat down. Her breath expelled in a slight gasp as he brought her down on top of him. There was no way she could miss his erection, but it shouldn’t shock her. He’d wanted her since the day he saw her. His own personal wild card. He’d always thought it was a mistake to pull for the wild card. But in this case...

  Pushing her hair aside, Ace wrapped his arms around her just under her breasts and pulled her back against him. She was warm, the water cool. In a moment that should have been full of pain and agony, there was just peace. He looked up.