by Lena Hart
She gaped at him for a moment then cried out and threw her arms around him. “Oh, thank you!”
The hug was unexpected, but he instinctively wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Her soft frame pressed solidly against his, and he breathed in her sweet scent. His reaction to her nearness, her touch, was nothing short of salacious, but he reveled in it. For three long days he had wanted to do this, had wanted to know how she would feel in his arms.
She felt perfect.
Without thinking, he pressed his lips along the smooth, warm curve of her neck. A slight tremor passed through her before she stiffened and pushed away from him. He released her.
She wrapped her arms around herself and fixed her gaze on his chin. “Please don’t do that.”
Embarrassed, he ran his gloved hand through his hair. He wanted her like he had never wanted anyone in his life. Completely and without regard to the rules of propriety. But having her was an impossible fulfillment and he needed to remember that.
“Sorry.”
“That can never happen again.”
“It won’t,” he said tightly. “You have my word.”
She glanced down at her hands, her shoulders slumping in what he could only imagine was relief, and he gritted his teeth in annoyance. Never had he thought he would want a woman so much that he didn’t care she was promised to another. If she would let him, he would do more than steal a quick kiss on her neck. But she wouldn’t betray her fiancé’s trust, and he could respect that.
He just didn’t like it.
In silence, they made their way into the relatively popular boomtown, which he assumed, for this part of Nebraska, was as much of a bustling city as it was going to be. If they were going to wait for her late-arriving luggage, they would need to find lodging for the night.
In the underdeveloped town, they passed as many tent homes as they did buildings and cottages. There were also a fair number of drunks and whores littering the streets. Not too far from them, a shouting match between two men escalated into a full-blown brawl. Logan pulled Gracie close to his side as other men gathered and cheered them on. His immediate sense to protect her was so instinctive, he didn’t realize how tight he was holding her until she patted his hand, and he eased his grip around her waist.
They finally came upon an establishment that looked to be the most reputable in the area. Only a few customers occupied the small saloon inside, and they all sat gawking at them as they walked pass. Logan knew why and kept his hand firmly on Gracie’s back as he guided her to the bar.
“Do you have an available room?”
The thinning-haired keeper glanced from them both before he settled his glare on Logan. “Yeah, I may have a room or two open. But if you plan to keep her in there with you, it’s going to be extra.”
“Fine,” Logan barked, feeling the tension in Gracie’s back.
“And you be sure to keep her out of sight, goddamn it,” the man added. “I don’t need any trouble around here.”
“She won’t be any trouble.”
“No, she won’t,” Gracie snapped. “Because she’s not staying here.”
Logan cursed as she pulled away from him and rushed out of the door. He followed after her, grabbed her elbow before she could get far, and turned her to face him. He hated to see the distress in her eyes, the tears that she was fighting hard not to shed.
“Gracie—”
“I’m not staying in there. I would rather sleep in a tent then to patronize that foul man’s business.”
“To hell with him. The man’s an idiot, that’s for sure, but he also has a warm, safe place for us to stay tonight. And trust me, you’ll be happier with a roof over your head. A tent would be no better than sleeping in mud.”
She shook her head. “I don’t care. That’s the beauty of freedom. I can choose what I want to do, where I want to go and when. And I’m not staying in there,” she snapped, gesturing to the saloon behind him.
“You’re being foolish,” Logan said sharply. “This town is not the kind of place you want to find yourself camping outside of. Sometimes it’s worth putting up with a bit of bullshit for some security.”
She wrinkled her nose. “No, it’s not. And it’s not foolish to demand some dignity. Nothing is worth being looked at with such disgust, or treated with such contempt. I’m tired of you white men going around as if you’re some kind of superior race, like those who are different or darker than you don’t matter.”
Logan gritted his teeth, trying to hold on to his rising anger. “In case you forgot, I’m also part Mexican. I’m no stranger to bigotry.”
“And how convenient for you to be able to choose who you want to be on any given day. I can only imagine what a great relief it is. But for me, it doesn’t work like that.” Her dark brown eyes took on a fiery glow he had never seen before. “In this world, I’ve been handed two disadvantages, and it doesn’t matter if I’m an educated free woman or a runaway slave. I will always be just a Negro woman. Easily disregarded and disrespected.”
Silence fell between them like a heavy stone and they stood glaring at each other. So much for keeping his temper in check, Logan thought. But when he let her words penetrate, he understood where her frustration stemmed. He could understand not wanting others to define or judge who he was because of what he looked like. He couldn’t fault her for feeling the same way.
Logan sighed. “Okay, come on. Let’s find someplace a little more welcoming.”
Except finding a lodge accepting Negros was harder than he’d anticipated. In the end, he had to bribe and pay a sizeable fee to “lease” out an abandoned train caboose for the night. The rustic red train car had the faded words “Pacific Railroad” painted on the side. It sat in a desolate patch far enough away from the town to keep trouble from wandering out to them.
Though the real challenge would be spending one more night with her close by while trying not to touch her.
Gracie made the best of their accommodations, which wasn’t the greatest, but it certainly beat putting up with the bigots in this unruly town. The first tavern keep had been the friendliest in his disdain of her. The other lodgings wouldn’t even allow her inside. It had been disheartening to be faced with such discrimination this far west of the country. It was as if no matter how far they ventured, she and every Negro would be treated as second-class citizens. Or worse.
Luckily, with Logan’s persistence, they found a suitable place to lay their heads for the night. There were no furnishings inside the abandoned caboose, but he had purchased a kerosene lamp and some blankets, which they spread across the worn floorboards.
She glanced over at him, the soft glow of the lamp highlighting his striking, dark features as he sat on the blanket, his back pressed against the peeling wall of the caboose. Guilt over her verbal attack toward him earlier gnawed at her. He had only been trying to help—at the very least, make her see reason. In return, she had let her frustration with the white tavern keeper get the better of her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t encountered prejudice before. New York was riddled with whites who held this wild notion of supremacy and were staunchly against miscegenation.
But then there were others who saw people for who they were and didn’t put themselves above others, like Mrs. Dobson.
And Logan.
Despite the fact that he had fought for a system that was designed to strip people of their basic human rights, he was a man of honor. A flawed, honorable man. Not an evil one.
Gracie settled down beside him and began to spread their simple meal across the blanket. “I’m sorry about my outburst earlier,” she said quietly, keeping her focus on her task and not quite meeting his gaze.
He shrugged. “Don’t apologize for speaking your mind. At least not with me.”
“No, it wasn’t very polite of me to attack you like that. Not when you’ve been nothing but kind to me and helpful these past few days.”
A small smile threatened to tug at her lips as she thought of th
e many times he had taken pleasure in deliberately aggravating her. She knew he enjoyed purposely goading her into arguments, being contrary and often contradicting himself. It had taken her a while to pick up on his ploy, and she wasn’t sure why he insisted on provoking her. But then, she enjoyed their spirited discussions too much to call him out on it.
This time, he said nothing as they concentrated on their simple supper of cornbread and cured meat. She couldn’t believe how fast time had crept up on her. By tomorrow night, she would be in Montana, in her future husband’s home.
And tonight would be just a distant memory.
She scoffed at herself, recognizing that lie. She would never forget the time she spent with Logan, even if part of that time had been in a dingy, dark caboose in the middle of nowhere.
She certainly wouldn’t forget when he had pressed his lips against her neck on the train platform. Gracie trembled again from the memory, wondering what had been going through his mind when he’d done that. It had been completely unexpected, and yet her body had craved more.
“Why Colorado?” she blurted, wanting to fill the silence with anything but her scandalous thoughts and memories.
He shrugged. “Seemed like a good place as any to settle down and start a new life.”
“Do you miss your old one?”
He was silent again for a moment. “I miss my father and the home we built together. I was prepared to follow in his footsteps, to live the life he groomed me for, but that life wasn’t really mine.”
“And what life was that?”
He regarded her closely before he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s no longer a part of my future.” After a short pause, he asked, “What about you? Why did you decide to sell yourself into marriage?”
She frowned at his choice of words, but couldn’t deny them. “I wanted to help my family. With my father’s injury, work is hard to come by. And being a black man in a state flooded with immigrants makes it even harder, especially since there aren’t many jobs around to begin with. This was just another way I could help provide for my family.”
And not be a burden.
Though her family had never made her feel anything but loved, she knew that as a soon-to-be nineteen-year-old it was time she started a family of her own. Moving west hadn’t been ideal, but there weren’t many marriageable men back east. At least none that had been as generous as Mr. Robert Whitaker.
Yet Gracie tried not to think of Madeline or the envy that still clawed at her at the other woman’s daring to follow her heart’s desires.
“If you had a choice,” Logan said quietly, “would you go through with this marriage?”
Gracie glanced at him, startled. It was as if he’d read her thoughts, and yet she had never given the idea any serious consideration. She slowly shook her head, his gaze piercing into her.
“Why not? Your fiancé seem to be very well off. You would want for nothing.”
Except the freedom to choose who I want to love and give my body to.
Her face heated at the thought. “Money can certainly make things more comfortable, but I’m not naive enough to believe it will equate to happiness or love.”
“You’ll be surprised just how much happiness and love money can buy.”
She tilted her head to the side, wondering at his cynical words yet not detecting any bitterness or resentment in them. “I’m speaking of real love. The kind that is wholesome and unconditional.”
“Have you ever been in love, Gracie?”
The question took her by surprise and she glanced away from his penetrating stare. She knew what he was asking but tried to avoid answering him directly. “Of course. I love my family and—”
“I’m not speaking of that kind of love. I mean have you ever been in love with a man?”
She shook her head slowly. “Not in that way, no.”
“Then what makes you think love will equate to happiness?”
“Because I’ve seen it with my parents. They’ve been together through lots of pain, violence, and uncertainty, yet they still manage to make each other smile.”
“I suppose there’s always an exception. But don’t be fooled. Where there’s love, there’s also misery and disappointment.”
“That’s a harsh outlook on such a complex emotion.”
He shrugged. “It’s true.”
She wanted to ask him had he ever been in love and gotten his heartbroken, but she couldn’t bring herself to be that forward.
“You speak like a man who doesn’t believe in love.”
“Oh, but I do and I’ve had the misfortune to know just how miserable it can make a man.”
So he has been in love with someone…
Gracie studied him and wondered about the woman who had stolen his heart. Who had he lost that would make him believe love equated to nothing but despair?
“Someone once told me if all you’ve ever known is pain, then that is all you will ever allow yourself to feel. You shouldn’t let one painful experience harden your heart forever or keep you from finding love again.”
He regarded her closely and she shifted under his intense scrutiny. “Even if loving someone makes you want things you can’t have and believe in things you shouldn’t?”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a little faith or wanting more for yourself.”
“Then why would you enter into a marriage you don’t want?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to get married,” Gracie said carefully. “I just wish I had a chance to do more, to have more going for myself than being some man’s wife.”
His lips curved into a grin. “What’s the role of the woman if not to be a good wife and mother?”
She narrowed her eyes at him before she shook her head with a soft laugh. “Nice try, Logan Finley, but I will not spar with you this night!”
He chuckled causing the corner of his eyes to wrinkle with mirth. “Coward.”
“Misogynist.”
They grinned at each other like two idiots before she glanced away and stared into the soft glow of the kerosene lamp.
“I sometimes wonder what the Lord has in store for me,” she murmured. “If Montana is the place I’m supposed to be and if Mr. Whitaker is who I’m supposed to be with.”
He was silent for so long, she wondered if he had heard her quiet admission. She glanced over at him to find him staring blindly into the light too. There was a distant look in his dark eyes, as if he was lost in the memories of his past, and she wanted to reach out to him, to bring him back to the present. To her.
“Logan?”
He blinked then focused his gaze on her, his eyes bleak. “I often wonder the same thing,” he finally said. “Finding my place in this world, that is. It seems like no matter where I go, I’m always on this endless search for my purpose in this life. And I’m still trying to find it.”
Gracie moved closer to him and took his hand in hers. Surprise flashed across his face, but before she could remember herself and pull away, he tightened his grip and pulled her closer.
“Oh.”
She fell against him, bracing her palms against his broad shoulders. She lost herself in his molten gaze as they stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like forever. She read the yearning in his and was sure they mirrored her own. His gaze shifted down to her lips, and her breath caught in anticipation.
“Logan…I-I’m going to be married.”
He released a low sound that was a mixture of a growl and groan. “Believe me, angel, I haven’t forgotten that.”
For a brief moment, she did. She stared down at his mouth and wondered what it would be like to feel those sensuous lips against hers. Whenever he touched her, her heart and body fluttered in a way it never had for another man, and she wanted to feel that again.
“I’m going to break my promise, Gracie.”
She frowned. “What—”
Before she could react, he pulled her to him and brought his lips down to hers. She gas
ped softly, but instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled around his shoulders. His mouth moved over hers with a familiarity that left her in a sweet state of suspension, and she released another whimper of pleasure. He broke the intoxicating kiss and moved his lips along her cheek and down her neck. She trembled again from the delicate, heady sensation.
“Have you ever been kissed, angel?” he asked quietly, still trailing his warm lips along her sensitive skin.
“Yes,” she breathed. But not like this. Not with such skill and deep longing.
“Then I guess I’m going to have to make sure you never forget this one,” he murmured, determination clear in his low tone.
With that, he captured her lips once more and again she lost herself in his kiss. He brushed the tip of his tongue against her lower lip, and instinctively she parted them, wanting to taste all of him. She savored the hot, invigorating feel as he slipped his tongue into her mouth with a smooth, gentle caress. Her arms tightened around him and she released a soft moan from the stimulating sensation but didn’t pull away from him. Instead, she leaned closer.
Suddenly, Logan shifted and before she knew it, she was on her back, rolled beneath him on the rough blanket as he hovered above her. He ran his palm slowly down the length of her body—over her breasts, down to her waist, and finally rested on her hip. She shivered in his arms, her nipples straining against her dress from the heat left behind by the deliberate action. Gracie knew that accepting his touch and slow kiss was wicked and wrong, but nothing had ever felt so right.
His dark eyes were filled with such hunger and affection, it left her breathless. “Gracie…”
She lightly touched his rough cheek, ignoring the warnings and reprimands sounding in her head. In that moment, she knew she wanted him more than she wanted her next breath. She didn’t think about the consequences or about tomorrow. And she didn’t worry about right or wrong. She simply concentrated on the now and her desperate need for him.
“Make love to me, Logan.”
Desire so intense flashed across his face, she felt the power of it surging through him. But he didn’t question her decision and he didn’t hesitate. With a low growl, he captured her lips once more and again, she lost herself in him.
