The sheriff pointed to a Wanted poster on the wall. “That’s all the proof I need. I’ve got plenty of cause to lock Miss McKinney up for a few days.”
“She’s not Miss McKinney,” Ethan said forcefully. “She’s my wife, and I want her out of that cell.”
All three men looked toward Jayne, who was grasping the bars. “Sheriff, you know this is a mistake.”
“What I know is that you’ve got a little payback coming for ditching me on the trail. You disobeyed the law, young lady.”
Ethan’s temper flared. “This is just plain wrong. I could—jeez!” As pain shot from his foot to his head, he realized that the good Reverend had stomped on his foot.
“Now, Tom,” John said, sounding as wise as Solomon. “Let’s think this through. I married these two awhile ago, so Ethan has a right to be concerned. We both know you can’t leave a woman locked up next to Horace. It isn’t seemly. Plus she’s innocent, and you know it.”
“I don’t know any such thing. I don’t make judgments. I just enforce the law.”
As Jayne sighed with frustration, Ethan balled his hands into fists. With his throbbing foot reminding him to stay civil, he faced Handley. “Okay, Sheriff. What will it take to get her out of here? Another bond?”
“Nope. She’ll rabbit off somewhere.”
Jayne interrupted. “I won’t. You have my word.”
Handley harrumphed. “That means nothing to me, young lady.”
The sheriff’s loud grunt must have disturbed Horace’s slumber because he rolled to his side and thumped his head on the bed frame. At the sight of Jayne, he bolted upright. His bloodshot eyes popped wide and his fat lips curled into a leering grin. Wobbling to his feet, he curled his greasy fingers around the bars and let out a catcall. “Whooo-hoooo, I got me a skirt to look at.”
John raised an eyebrow at Handley. “Do you intend to spend the night here, Sheriff? If not, I’m going to have to let the ladies of this town know that you subjected a young woman to Horace’s bad habits.”
Horace chose that moment to grab his crotch and squeal like a pig.
“Ah, hell,” the Sheriff muttered. “Get her outta here, but don’t leave town. I want to see you both here at twelve sharp every day until this is settled.”
As soon as Handley opened the cell door, Jayne bolted for the front door. Nauseous from the stench of Horace’s body odor, she collapsed on a bench and pressed her hands to her cheeks to steady herself. Ethan and John followed in her steps and planted themselves in front of the bench.
Ethan reached down and touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“The fresh air is helping.” She smoothed a wrinkle out of her skirt, wishing all of her problems could be solved so easily. John Leaf was standing like a silent black wall with his hands on his hips, while Ethan was rubbing her shoulder, as if to convince himself that she was safe. Not knowing if she was giving comfort or seeking it for herself, she put her hand on top of his.
Looking into his worried eyes, she said, “I’m so sorry to scare you. Handley wouldn’t let me tell you what happened. He just locked me up and started talking about bank robberies and murder charges.”
John shifted his weight. “Handley’s just plain mean, and stupid to boot. You both seem calmer. Do you want to go back to the church?”
Jayne shook her head. “I’m not up for conversation.”
“Neither am I,” Ethan added.
“I can understand,” said John. “I’ve been in jail a few times. Whether it’s five minutes or five years, the feeling’s the same and it’s awful. Supper and sleep will help you both. I don’t think Handley will bother you at the hotel.”
As soon as the Reverend departed, Ethan dropped down on the bench, put his arms around her and pressed her head against his shoulder. The solidness of his body took her back to the storm at Rainbow Falls, and what had happened afterward.
I love you…
She heard the cry in her heart, but her mouth refused to work. If she became Ethan’s wife in the truest sense, there would be no going back to Lexington or starting over in a new town. She’d be sharing him with Laura for the rest of her life, no matter how much it hurt. Her mother’s voice haunted her thoughts.
Be careful, Jayne. Don’t risk your heart.
Side by side, she and Ethan sat in silence until he loosened his grip on her shoulders and nodded toward the café across the street. “I wonder if that place serves sauerkraut,” he said, making his voice light.
In spite of herself, she smiled. “I don’t think I could eat a bite.”
“Maybe a cup of tea then. Besides, it’ll give us a place to talk. We have a few things to settle.”
Chapter Sixteen
P ushing to his feet, Ethan took Jayne’s hand and led her across the street to the café. Her fingers felt like ice in his, and her cheeks were still as white as a new petticoat. Last night’s argument had to be addressed, but right now she needed a friend more than she needed a man’s stubbornness. Ethan intended to be strong for her, today and always, but with Handley’s threats ringing in their ears, “today” took precedence.
After they entered the café, Ethan guided her to a table against a wall where they would have some privacy. He ordered tea and toast for her and a plate of tamales for himself. As soon as the waitress left, she spread her napkin in her lap and looked at him with stark confusion.
A lot had happened to her in twenty-four hours. Together they’d tumbled from the mountaintop of a wedding night to a valley full of shadows and danger. He couldn’t change the facts, but he could put her at ease about their personal differences. He made his voice gentle. “We have some unfinished business.”
“Yes, we do,” she replied. “I wanted to talk to the Reverend about what he said today, but then Handley nabbed me. I feel like I’m still in jail, like decisions are being made for me.”
“I know how that feels.” He’d been made helpless by circumstances when his family died. “You want to have choices.”
“Exactly.”
“I want you to have a choice, too, that’s why I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to feel right about being my wife. I love you, Jayne, and that’s why we aren’t going to share a bed until you say so.”
To his horror, she started to cry. “You’re being so kind to me. Maybe I am as crazy as a loon.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. “You’re smart and beautiful and brave. Do you know when I first realized I could love you?”
She shook her head.
“At Dawson’s grave when I saw you tramping through the snow. You risked everything for a man who didn’t deserve to walk on this earth with you. That took courage, and I admired you for it.”
She managed a smile. “But it probably wasn’t smart.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Ethan replied. “I think it’s the smartest thing you’ve ever done. You saved me, Jayne. Do you know how it feels when your foot falls asleep? It’s all numb and dead, and then the blood starts to flow and it hurts like hell. That’s how I felt with you, like a dead man coming back to life.”
“I’m glad I could help. You’re a good man,” she said sincerely.
“If I am, it’s because of you. You gave me back the best parts of myself, and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done—everything from giving me a haircut to that night at Rainbow Falls.”
When she looked up with wide eyes, Ethan felt his blood heat to a near boil. She was on the verge of saying yes to him—he was sure of it—but the waitress interrupted with their food. His mouth started to water at the spicy aroma of the tamales, but he wouldn’t take a bite until Jayne broke the silence.
She took a sip of tea, then lowered the cup. “I heard everything you said, but I still need to think. I have to be sure.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” Ethan cut into the corn husk wrapper and raised the bite to his lips. At least one of his natural appetites could be satisfied. As for their marriage, he’d have to be pat
ient while nature took its course.
With their sleeping arrangements settled, he decided to address more practical concerns. “We need to wire Chief Roberts, then we’ll go to the store. I need a few things.”
“All right,” she said, nibbling the toast.
After they finished the meal, they left the restaurant, sent a wire to Chief Roberts and walked to the Midas Emporium holding hands.
As soon as they entered the store, Ethan saw Mrs. Wingate arch her eyebrows. She was a talker, the kind of person LeFarge would find and use. Too late, Ethan realized he wasn’t prepared to answer questions about Jayne.
The clerk beamed a smile. “Hello, Mr. Trent.”
“Good afternoon, ma’am.”
Before she could probe, Ethan steered Jayne down the aisle holding personal items. He had forgotten his shaving tools, so he picked out a new razor, a mug and soap. Turning, he saw Jayne fingering the blue gingham he had wanted to buy for her the last time he’d been in town. Reaching around her waist, he picked up the bolt with one hand and tucked it under his arm.
She shook her head. “You shouldn’t—”
“I want to.” Nothing short of a bullet could have stopped him from buying the fabric for her. It matched her eyes, and pretty soon she’d need loose-fitting clothes to accommodate the baby. He wanted to buy her something else as well, something lasting, but what?
While Jayne looked at sewing notions, Ethan perused a display case of jewelry. He saw a silver band inlayed with turquoise, but he didn’t want to give her a ring until he was sure that she’d wear it. He ruled out a gold locket etched with hearts. It was a courtship gift, and he’d done all the asking he intended to do.
Still, he wanted to send her a message. As he strolled the aisles, a shiny frying pan caught his eye. Under the circumstances, it seemed like the perfect way to mark his second marriage. In fact, his entire kitchen needed to be reoutfitted. With children in mind, he picked out the biggest skillet he could find, a pot for vegetables and a Dutch oven. He was about to add a set of enamel dishes when Jayne came up behind him.
Glancing at the cookware, she said, “You don’t need those things.”
“Who says?” If she intended to leave, she had no say in how he spent his money. If she decided to stay, then they would have something to talk about.
After surveying the pots and pans, she stood on her toes and scanned the higher shelves. “What you really need are biscuit tins.” She reached above her head, lifted two round pans and inspected them. “These are nice.”
He held in a smile. “Anything else?”
“Pot holders. I left you one of mine, but it won’t last forever.”
Together they picked out everything a new bride could want for her first kitchen. Ethan’s heart swelled with hope as they carried the cookware to the counter where Mrs. Wingate looked ready to bust with curiosity.
“And who is this pretty young lady?” she asked.
Jayne smiled at the busybody. “I’m Mrs. Trent.” The words made Ethan feel ten feet tall. Let it be true…
Mrs. Wingate clasped her hands at her breast. “I had no idea!”
“We were married a month ago,” Jayne replied.
A rush of panic swept through Ethan. They had told LeFarge they’d been married in Missouri. If the outlaw pumped Mrs. Wingate for information, he would learn the truth. Rude or not, he had to stop the women from talking. Reaching for his billfold, he addressed the clerk. “How much do I owe you?”
Frowning, she named a price and made change.
Jayne glanced at him with annoyance and then turned back to Mrs. Wingate. “It’s nice to meet you. Maybe we can chat some other time.”
Ethan snatched the box to his chest and headed for the door. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
As soon as they reached the street, Jayne gave him a sideways glance. “I’m not foolish. I said I was your wife because it fits with the story we told LeFarge.”
“Not quite,” he said in a firm tone. “He thinks we’ve been married for years.”
The pots and pans rattled with each step as they paced to the hotel and then climbed the stairs to their rooms. Bracing the box against the wall, he fumbled in his pocket for the key. When it dropped to the carpet with a soft plunk, Jayne picked it up and opened the door. It struck Ethan as fitting. She held the key to his heart as well.
He followed her into the room and set the rattling box on the floor.
“I’d like to rest a bit,” she said.
“Sure, it’s been a hard day.”
He opened the door to the adjoining room and stepped back, allowing her to pass through the entry. As soon as the last inch of her skirt brushed his boot, he closed the door with a soft click.
Frustrated, he rubbed his hand over his jaw. When a day’s worth of whiskers scraped at his palm, he decided to shave and put on fresh clothes. The decision to share his bed was hers, but as sure as the sun would rise, he’d be ready to make love to her the minute she asked.
Jayne dropped down on the hotel bed in an exhausted heap. The soft mattress shaped itself to her back and hips, lulling her into a fitful slumber for the rest of the afternoon. Dreams came with the twilight. She saw herself riding hard and fast across a grassy plain with LeFarge in pursuit. She startled awake with her pulse pounding and her hands wrapped around her belly to protect the baby.
Still exhausted, she dozed again. This time she dreamed of Rainbow Falls and Ethan caressing her breasts and thighs. She drifted awake in a languid fog, but her pulse was racing even faster than it had before.
How could she long for his touch and, at the same time, fear the consequences? Loving Ethan meant admitting to needs she didn’t want to have. For love. Companionship. A strong shoulder to lean on. It also meant trusting that he was truly over losing Laura.
His voice echoed in her ear. I’ll wait as long as it takes…
Twilight filled the room with dusky shadows. Through the thin walls she heard the tap of Ethan’s boots on the floor, then the trickle of water filling the washbowl. She shut her eyes to block out the picture of him stripping off his shirt, but the darkness only made the ivory of his skin more vivid. Her fingers ached to touch the hard muscles defining his back. She remembered the purpose in his voice when he promised to be patient, and it made her tremble.
Opening her eyes, she sat on the edge of the bed and peered through the window. The sky had deepened to a purplish blue, like a lake at midnight. Feeling like a moth trapped behind glass, she raised the sash a few inches. A man’s voice drifted upward from the boardwalk and a woman chuckled at his joke. A dog barked and its mate howled in perfect harmony.
Battling a wave of loneliness, she lit the oil lamp on the dresser and slipped out of her dress and undergarments. The air prickled against her bare skin, making her nipples pucker with the sensation. Fighting the sudden tension, she lifted a white nightgown from her trunk and lowered it over her head. As she reached down to close the lid, her gaze landed on her mother’s scissors.
She would have given a year of her life to talk to her mother just one more time. Mama, Mama…what should I do?
Stay strong. Be sensible.
Louisa McKinney’s voice echoed in her daughter’s mind, but tonight it brought no comfort.
But I love him, Mama. He says he loves me.
She could almost see her mother’s skeptical gaze. Louisa McKinney had loved two men and been hurt by both. Except the circumstances weren’t the same as the ones facing Jayne. Her father had died in an accident no one could have predicted, and Ethan was nothing like Arthur Huntington. He’d never hurt her on purpose. The problem was that he loved too well. His feelings for Laura were proof.
Sighing, Jayne slipped her fingers through the loops of the scissors and worked the blades, thinking of the blue gingham Ethan had bought for her. Someday she’d cut it into a familiar pattern—
Familiar patterns.
Shimmering silk or lush velvet—she loved them equally. Poplin or linen—t
hey both made up into nice day dresses. Fabrics changed with the season. Styles changed with the times in a woman’s life.
With a sudden clarity Jayne understood Ethan’s love for her. She and Laura were like two beautiful dresses in the same closet, each one a perfect fit and right for an equally special occasion. He loved them both, truly and deeply.
She longed to open the door between their rooms and rush into his arms, but old habits and new doubts kept her feet glued to the floor. She was an incurable optimist. She saw things at their best, but Hank had shown her how wrong she could be. What if she had misread Ethan’s feelings? What if they made love and he turned his back on her and wept for Laura?
Needing fresh air, Jayne opened the window as wide as it would go. At the same instant she heard a matching scrape from another sill. The hiss of a match drew her gaze to Ethan’s room, where an orange glow flared in the darkness. She heard one long draw as he sucked on the pipe, then silence.
Vanilla smoke wafted into her room.
Needing to clear her head, she clutched at the high sash and tried to push it down. The wood refused to budge. Another curl of smoke drifted across her face and into her eyes. Standing on her toes, she pushed with all her might.
The sash broke loose and fell to the sill with a crash. Glass shattered in the air and fanned across the carpet in a sea of crystal splinters. There was nothing left of the window, nothing left to stand in the way of the cool night air, the stars, her destiny.
Ethan burst through the door. With a glance, he took in the broken window and her bare feet. “Don’t move.”
“I—I’m fine,” she stammered. “The window just fell.”
“The counterweight probably broke.”
He walked to her side, pulverizing the biggest slivers beneath his boots. Without giving her a chance to argue, he scooped her into his arms and headed for his room, the only place on earth she wanted to be.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she decided to enjoy the ride. When the hem of her nightgown slid down her thigh, she let if drift to her hips, feeling like a bride as he carried her over the threshold.
West of Heaven Page 18
