Scandal

by Molly Ann Wishlade

  What harm would it do?

  Chapter Four

  Ellen fussed around Stella Rose. The young woman looked so tired yet so relieved. She had come through childbirth and had every right to be pleased as punch about it.

  The baby, little Ellen, was doing well. Luckily, Stella had taken to breastfeeding like a duck to water and that lifted Ellen’s heart because she hadn’t fancied trying to locate a willing wet nurse in Deadwood. Most women struggled to feed their own children and didn’t have spare milk for someone else’s child. Stella was a natural though and, young as she was, she seemed besotted with the babe.

  “There, sweetheart. Is that more comfortable?” Ellen plumped up the pillows.

  She had helped Stella to wash then dressed her torn and bruised female area with a salve and clean cloths. She’d boil the soiled ones then ensure that the young woman had a ready supply. It would be too tough on Clayton to deal with the female complaints that came post-labour and Ellen doubted that anyone else nearby would have the time or inclination.

  Then it hit her.

  What was she thinking? In typical Ellen Finch fashion, she had already made a mental and emotional commitment to Stella Rose and her child. She was already planning to care for the girl and to ensure that she was back on her feet with as little hassle as possible.

  “You’re a soft fool,” she muttered to herself.

  Well, it wouldn’t make a lot of difference if she left today or next week. She had no one waiting on her in Custer City. She’d be out of the Gem at least and it might even allow Al some time to adjust to her going.

  Of course, spending a little more time in Clayton’s company wasn’t an unappealing thought either. She’d enjoyed their intimacy enormously. But had their connection been due to their heightened emotions because of the baby’s arrival? And was Clayton always that attentive towards the women he bedded? Which reminded her. She wanted to ask why a man as good-looking as he was didn’t have a wife. Surely, if he set his mind to it, he could have his pick of sweet young women? If she’d been younger and…and pure, she’d have taken his hand gladly.

  Her heart sank into her boots. What was she thinking? Of course he’d take advantage of her warmth and easy nature. What man wouldn’t? She knew she was a comely female with her curves and glossy black mane. She’d given him what he’d wanted. What man would refuse? But that didn’t mean that he’d ever see her as anything other than a harlot.

  Did it?

  ****

  Clayton lifted his tiny niece and gazed into her pink, puckered face. She was the cutest little thing. With her shock of black hair and dark grey eyes, she brought such joy to his heart. Yet also such pain. She was the image of his son. He brushed the thought away. He wouldn’t allow that ache to get a hold of him right now. He had a pleasant evening planned.

  “I can’t believe that she’s nearly two weeks old, Stella.”

  “Nor I.” His sister smiled. She was glowing with happiness and Clayton knew that it was the joy of a new mother in love with her child. But he also knew that without Ellen Finch it would not have been possible. Stella Rose and little Ellen might not even have survived.

  “Are you sure that you’ll be okay this evening for a few hours?”

  Stella nodded. “Of course, Clayton. Ellen has fed me well, changed both me and the babe and left everything I might need within reach. That woman is a real prize you know.” She gazed at him meaningfully and his cheeks filled with heat. It made him almost wish he’d kept the beard to hide his blushes. But he’d shaved his face clean that morning and had been quite pleased with Ellen’s reaction. She’d praised his strong, square jaw and caressed it with her sweet, small hands.

  In spite of his best intentions, he’d gotten in deep. In just fourteen days, he’d made love to the raven-haired beauty in as many different ways as he could. She was beautiful, responsive and giving. She showered him with physical affection and she had touched something deep inside of him and begun to heal it. The pain that he’d tried to bury long ago. Though he feared allowing her to fix him because he didn’t want to become vulnerable again, Ellen just had a quality to her that made it impossible to keep himself shut down. She was under his skin and he loved it.

  So much so, that he’d even asked her to accompany him into town this evening to see a travelling show. The small theatrical company was putting on a musical in the main street and he wanted to take Ellen there, to give her a good time and to thank her for all that she’d done. He wanted to take her out on his arm as if she was his woman and all was fine and dandy between them.

  He’d retrieved her belongings from the Gem the previous day. She’d stayed with Stella Rose but sent a message for a woman named Kacey. When he’d given the whore the note, she’d grinned like a child with a basket full of cakes and slapped him on the arm. She had gathered Ellen’s things and brought them into the bar of the Gem before telling him to make sure that he took good care of her Ellen. She said to tell Ellen that she would catch up with her soon.

  Then Al Swearengen had approached him and asked him if he knew what he was getting into. At this, Kacey had insisted that Al get his sorry ass back to bed then reassured Clayton by telling him that Al was just jealous that someone had finally won Ellen’s heart.

  Clayton had held Kacey’s comment close all day and played it through his head repeatedly. What did she mean?

  He didn’t know what Ellen had written to Kacey. He couldn’t read real well, though when he had admitted it to Ellen recently, she’d promised to teach him and had started going through letters with him already. She had learnt from a regular at the Gem, she’d told him. Kacey too. And she insisted that she would help him in any way she could.

  Had Kacey meant that Clayton had won Ellen’s heart? It lifted him but also terrified him. He’d failed Stella by not protecting her and he’d failed…he’d failed Maria when she’d died soon after their child. By allowing himself to get close to Ellen, he was risking his own heart but also putting her in a place where she could get hurt. He didn’t want to do that but try as he might to convince himself to let go now, before it was too late, he just couldn’t say the words.

  Stella Rose needed Ellen.

  Baby Ellen needed her.

  And if he was being totally and utterly honest…he needed her too.

  ****

  Ellen walked along Deadwood Main Street with her head held high. She’d donned the new red suit that she’d bought to travel in. The fitted jacket with its shiny buttons and the long skirt with its ruched train made her feel like some kind of princess. She’d ordered it from Chicago and having the opportunity to wear it in Deadwood, in front of Clayton, had started the evening off on a high.

  “You do look incredibly beautiful tonight, Ellen,” Clayton whispered as he tucked her arm more securely into his.

  “What…” Ellen waved her hand dismissively. “In this old thing?”

  He chuckled. She’d already confessed that it was new.

  “I wish that there was some way to show you how grateful I am for all that you’ve done.”

  “Clayton.” She turned and gazed into his dark eyes. “It’s been a pleasure. At no point has it been anything else. And anyway…you’ve repaid me many times.” She winked and smiled as his cheeks filled with colour.

  “Well that, Ellen Finch, has been my pleasure.”

  Ellen breathed deeply. Dusk had fallen over the town and kerosene lamps now hung from porches, swaying gently in the mild evening breeze. The rains that had seemed incessant just last week had abated and now the air bore the scents of spring. The fragrances of hope and new beginnings.

  Ellen felt, for the first time in years, fresh, renewed and hopeful.

  And she knew why.

  Clayton had lit the flames of desire within her and with them the seeds of hope had begun to germinate. She felt renewed. Like she had been through a transformation and her life would never again be as bad as it was. Before she had met Clayton Kile. But it wasn’t just about
lust. It was so much more than that. In Clayton, she had found a friend. They sat up talking into the middle of the night, discussing the changes affecting the American landscape and the possibilities for the future of their country. Clayton knew so much about life beyond Deadwood and it intrigued Ellen although, strangely, her need to leave had dissipated and she no longer yearned to escape the town as she once had.

  Clayton fascinated her on so many levels. He might not be classically educated and he couldn’t read much at all, but he listened and was a fast learner. Ellen had every intention of helping him with the reading and had already started to teach him the basics. She was surprised at how much she enjoyed teaching him and had begun to wonder if she might even help out with the children at the Deadwood school. But perhaps that was too far-fetched a dream to cherish for an ex-whore.

  As they neared the front of the Gem Theatre and Saloon, her stomach churned. It felt like a lifetime since she’d lived there. Time was relative, she realised. When your circumstances changed rapidly, so did how you viewed yourself and the world around you.

  “Are you okay?” Clayton brushed her cheek.

  She nodded.

  “Memories?”

  “Something like that,” she replied, biting the inside of her cheek as a drunk flew out of the swing doors and landed in the street at their feet.

  Ellen made to step around him but he grabbed her ankle.

  “Hey there!”

  She tried to pull her leg away but the drunk had an iron grip. As he got to his knees, she recognised him.

  “Well…if it ain’t Samuel Foxdale.” She shook her head, trying to appear nonchalant though her heart raced and fear gripped her with its icy fingers.

  “And if it ain’t the lovely Ellen Finch.” He got unsteadily to his feet then looked her up and down. “Looking all fine in her expensive new clothes. I been missing your company, Ellen.” He moved towards her and placed a heavy paw on her shoulder. Ellen recoiled as his whisky-soaked breath washed over her. Images of him humping her like a bull flooded her mind and she struggled to stop herself retching. Even though it had been years ago, his particular style of fucking had scarred her in more ways than one.

  Sam Foxdale had been a regular during her time as a whore, in spite of how repulsive she had found him. The only reason she had allowed him to visit her had been to protect the other girls. He was a cruel man with perverse tastes. When Ellen had refused to whore any more, Sam had exploded and screwed every other girl at the Gem to vent his frustration. It had broken Ellen’s heart as she’d tended to their bruises as well as their emotional wounds, but he had soon tired of them and begun visiting one of the other cat houses instead. He had, however, continued to drink at the Gem, keeping a possessive eye on Ellen in case she decided to sell her wares again. In fact, he’d been there just about every damned night, ogling her like a jealous lover as she socialised with the Gem’s patrons.

  “Now come on, Sam…” She tried to remove his hand.

  “Whadda ya mean come on…” he spat. “I been missing ya and I want some of your honey sweet cunt.” With that he grabbed at her breasts.

  Ellen made to bat his hands away but he’d already disappeared, lifted from his feet by a punch thrown by Clayton. As Sam hit the ground, Clayton pounced on him and pinned him down. Ellen was frozen to the spot, her mouth hanging open in surprise.

  “You think it’s okay to go grabbing at ladies as they take a walk through town do ya?” Clayton’s face was red with rage.

  “She’s no lady…She’s a whore!” Sam muttered as he struggled to extricate himself from Clayton’s crushing hold but he was no match for the cowboy’s strength. “A whore I tell ya.”

  “How dare you!” Clayton smashed his fist into Sam’s face and Ellen heard the crunch of bone.

  “Clayton!” she gasped. “No…Please don’t. He’s just a stupid drunk is all.”

  Clayton turned to look at her. His eyes were black. His cheeks burned scarlet. His jaw was set and his right hand was still curled into a blood-coated fist. “Stupid drunk or not…no one ever speaks to you like that again.” He turned back to the drunk. “You hear me?” He shook the man until his teeth rattled.

  “Yeah…yeah I hear ya.” Sam nodded, turning his head to spit blood on the ground.

  Clayton got to his feet then pulled Sam up.

  “Now you got something to say to the lady?” Clayton nudged Sam as he stood swaying and nursing his jaw where a purple bruise was taking up residence.

  “So…sorry, Miss Finch. I didn’t mean no harm.”

  “That’s better.” Clayton nodded. “Now get outa here and if I see ya again…” He waved his curled fist in front of Sam’s face.

  The drunk picked up his hat then staggered away.

  “Ellen?” Clayton reached for her arm. “I’m sorry. I just reacted. You don’t mind do you?”

  Ellen’s knees knocked together beneath her skirts and her armpits were hot with shock but she shook her head. “No. I don’t mind…not at all. Just don’t get yourself hurt on my account.”

  “If you ask me, Ellen,” Clayton kissed her cheek, “it seems that your honour should have been defended a long time since. Filthy ol’ drunks like that have no place insulting a woman like you.”

  She took his arm again and they resumed their walk towards the temporary stage that had been erected at the far end of town.

  Ellen really didn’t mind at all. Inside she was bursting with excitement. Clayton had defended her honour. Told another man to apologise for calling her a whore! She’d worried that perhaps he saw her as one, as a loose woman ready for the taking but his behaviour and the way he treated her and spoke to her suggested otherwise.

  Clayton actually thought that she was worth defending. No man had ever made her feel protected before. Sure, Mr Hawkins had offered her a way out and seemed to care for her but he’d not been the type of man to put up a fight to win her. Or to protect her.

  Clayton Kile was different. He had hit another man to defend her honour. Sure, it wasn’t the first time she’d had her breasts grabbed by a whisky-addled fool. And a dangerous one at that. But Clayton had put a stop to it. While she was with him, Ellen knew that she’d never have to be pawed at again.

  She allowed the smile that burned in her belly to rise to her face.

  “What’re you grinning about there?” Clayton pulled her closer and placed a hand in the small of her back. His touch sent delightful shivers racing up and down her spine and she tingled with desire.

  “I’m just feeling happy is all,” she replied honestly. “And I’m really looking forward to seeing the show.”

  “Me too, sweetheart.”

  Ellen leant into his warmth and allowed him to lead her towards the stage, wishing that he would always want to keep her at his side. Yearning to always feel this safe and desired.

  But that would be too much to hope for. Wouldn’t it?

  Chapter Five

  As they climbed the rough steps to the cabins, Ellen could barely contain her laughter. The show had been so much fun and Clayton had made it even better by mimicking the actors as they walked home.

  Home.

  She stopped and Clayton took hold of her shoulders.

  “What is it? What’s wrong, Ellen?”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Oh I’m sorry.” She shook her head.

  “But why? Haven’t we had the best evening?” he pleaded.

  “Yes. I’ve had a wonderful time. This last two weeks…I’ve had so much fun and felt like I was part of a family.” The hot tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks.

  “So why are you crying?” He laughed. “That’s a good thing right?”

  She pressed her hand to his chest and felt the strong, steady beat of his heart.

  “What do you want, Clayton?”

  He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “I mean…what do you want out of this life?”

  “That’s one hell of a question, Ell
en.” He ran a hand over his face.

  “I know.” She bit her lip. “And maybe I shouldn’t even be asking. I mean…I should just enjoy this for what it is then jump onto the steam train and get the hell out of Deadwood like I originally planned. But…”

  “But?” She saw herself reflected in his eyes as he watched her carefully.

  “But I’m afraid to.”

  He pulled her to his chest and kissed her hair. She relaxed against him, listening to his heart as its pace increased. So he was affected by this too. Their situation was not carefree for him either.

  “Ellen.” He whispered into her hair. “Tell me why you’re afraid.”

  She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging to his strength and vitality. His hard male body responded to her soft curves and soon his erection dug into her belly. She sighed as he moved his big hands down to cup her buttocks. He was all male. Her lover, her friend, her protector. She could spend her life with him and never want for a single thing. She knew it and it hurt. Because her feelings for him were overwhelming.

  “Clayton. Make love to me.”

  When they made love she could drown out the voices of doubt and fear and lose herself in feeling. In being. In the exquisite sensations.

  He tipped her face up and kissed her mouth. When he found her tongue with his, she moaned. She wanted him so much it hurt. She had never felt this much desire or this much need for a man before. Clayton had gotten under her skin, into her heart and opened her up to the possibilities for happiness that lay within reach. If only he wanted her in the same way too.

  He scooped her into his arms and carried her up the steps, across the path and towards his small cabin where a candle glowed in the smudged pane of glass that served as a window.

  But instead of taking her inside, he carried her around the back and through the trees. He stopped when he reached a small circular clearing then he placed her gently onto her feet.

  Ellen looked around.