“So,” Creed said, “what do you want first? Something to eat, or something to wear?”
“Clothes, please.”
The Big Store might be big, Jassy thought, but there weren’t a lot of choices in ladies’ ready-to-wear, and even less in her size. She finally settled on a blue gingham dress, since the only other choice was an ugly brown wool. Shoes were the next item of business, and she picked out a pair of low-heeled black leather boots. Cheeks flushing, she selected a pair of cotton stockings, and garters. Lastly, she bought a hairbrush and a packet of hair pins.
“That all?” Creed asked.
Jassy nodded. Her chemise and pantalets were still in reasonably good condition, she thought gratefully, because she’d hate to have to buy new ones with Creed and a handful of scruffy miners looking on.
She stood nearby while Creed selected a pair of black twill trousers, a dark green wool shirt, and a black hat. To her surprise, he decided to keep the moccasins. He also bought a used Navy Colt and a holster.
He paid for their purchases, tucked their parcels under one arm, and headed for the door.
It was after dark by the time they checked into the hotel.
“You’ll have to pretend to be my wife,” Creed told her as they crossed the lobby. “We don’t have enough money left for two rooms.”
Jassy nodded. Contrary to what Creed might think, she was glad they’d be sharing a room.
The hotel clerk’s gaze moved over Creed in a long, assessing glance that made it clear he didn’t cotton to the idea of having a half-breed under his roof.
Creed returned the man’s gaze, daring the clerk to ask him to leave. Finally, with a shrug, the man slid the hotel register across the counter.
Glancing over Creed’s shoulder, Jassy watched him sign in as Mister and Missus Monroe from Sheridan, Montana.
“We’ll need some hot water,” Creed said.
“That’ll be two bits extra.”
“Fine. Send it up right away, will you?”
“Yessir, Mr. Monroe,” the clerk replied. He handed Creed two keys, then closed the register with a bang.
Jassy followed Creed up the narrow stairway and down a dark hallway to their room.
Inside, he dropped their packages on the bed, then crossed the floor to the window and stared down at the street below. It was going to be hell, sharing a room with Jassy, he thought as he watched a mud wagon rumble past. The room was small. The bed was small. Soft and inviting. And she was all too willing…
He could hear the rustle of paper as she unwrapped her purchases.
“That hot water should be here soon,” Creed remarked, turning away from the window. “I’ll go downstairs so you can have some privacy.” He buckled on the gunbelt and checked to make sure the Colt was loaded. “Don’t leave this room ‘til I get back.”
“You will come back, won’t you?”
“Yeah.” His gaze lingered on her face for a long moment, and then he was gone.
*
Creed made his way to the town’s only saloon and stepped inside. He ordered a glass of whiskey, then stood there, staring into the clear amber liquid. Earlier, he’d gone to the Union Pacific ticket office and bought two second-class tickets to Sacramento. The good news was that the tickets didn’t cost quite as much as he had expected; the bad news was that the train wouldn’t arrive until Thursday morning. That meant sharing a room with Jassy for the next two nights.
Two nights in the same room. The very idea made him break out in a cold sweat. That day by the river, she had discovered what every women discovered sooner or later; now that she knew what a powerful weapon her sexuality was, he figured she was going to want someone to practice on. And he was that someone…
*
Jassy sat at the window, staring down at the street, wondering what was keeping Creed. He’d been gone for over an hour. In that time, she’d bathed and washed and dried her hair.
Now, fully dressed, she waited impatiently for his return.
When another thirty minutes went by, she began to wonder if he was ever coming back. She knew he regretted bringing her with him. He thought he was too old for her. He said he had nothing to offer her, no future, no hope. He had escaped from prison, and there was a price on his head. But none of that mattered. Why couldn’t he see that? Why wouldn’t he admit that they were good together? That he needed her just as much as she needed him?
There had to be something he wasn’t telling her, something in his past, but what? He said he had killed people. Was that it? Had he killed someone in cold blood? She knew he was capable of violence, of taking a life, but she couldn’t imagine Creed killing for killing’s sake.
She glanced over her shoulder when she heard a key turn in the lock. “Creed!”
He nodded at her, trying not to notice how beautiful she looked sitting in front of the window with the lamplight shining in her hair and her eyes glowing with happiness.
As if he had been gone for years instead of hours, she flew across the room and hugged him. “I missed you.”
Gently, he disengaged her arms from his waist. “Why don’t you go down to the dining room and get something to eat while I take a bath?”
“I’d rather wait for you.”
“I already ate,” he lied.
“Oh.”
Her disappointment pierced him, sharp as an Apache arrow.
But it was better this way. He needed to put some distance between them.
Turning his back to her, he unbuckled his gunbelt and placed it over the back of the chair she’d been sitting in. He started to remove his shirt, then thought better of it.
A few minutes later, a couple of tow-headed boys arrived with hot water. After several trips, the tub was full.
Creed looked at Jassy, one eyebrow raised in question, after the boys left the room the last time.
“I could stay and wash your back,” she offered, the flush in her cheeks belying the calm tone of her voice.
“I don’t think so. Go on, get something to eat,” he said, pressing a greenback into her hand. “You’ve got to be hungry.”
“You can’t avoid me forever,” Jassy replied tartly.
Jassy was almost to the door when Creed’s stomach rumbled twice. Loudly, hungrily.
Very slowly, she turned around to face him, her eyes filled with hurt and silent accusation.
“Jassy…”
“Enjoy your bath, Mr. Monroe,” she said, and turned away before he could see the tears in her eyes.
Creed swore under his breath as Jassy quietly closed the door behind her. He didn’t like the idea of Jassy going down to the dining room alone, but it couldn’t be helped. She was liable to get into a lot more trouble staying here, with him, than downstairs by herself.
Stripping off his travel-stained buckskins and moccasins, he eased himself into the tub, leaned back, and closed his eyes. What was he going to do about Jassy?
He stayed in the tub until the water grew cool, then washed quickly. Drying off, he pulled on his shirt and pants and moccasins, strapped on his gunbelt, and went downstairs.
At first glance, the hotel dining room appeared to be deserted. And then he saw Jassy sitting at a small table in the far corner. She was smiling, and then he heard her laugh, a sound of pure joy.
As he drew closer, he saw that she wasn’t alone.
Jassy clasped her hands in her lap as Creed approached the table. And then she flashed her dinner companion a radiant smile.
“Jassy.”
She looked up, as if noticing Creed for the first time. “Oh, Mr. Monroe. Hello.” She smiled at the man sitting across from her. “Jim Phillips, this is Creed Monroe. Creed, this is Jim. He works at the Company Store.”
Jim Phillips stood up, his hand extended. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Monroe.”
Creed shook the man’s hand. Jim Phillips was tall, lean, and pretty-boy handsome, with a shock of blond hair and honest blue eyes. His handshake was firm and friendly. His brown twee
d city suit indicated prosperity and good taste.
Creed disliked him on sight.
“Won’t you join us, Creed?” Jassy asked, her tone indicating she didn’t really want his company but was merely asking to be polite.
“Thanks,” Creed replied. “I think I will.”
He drew a chair up to the table and sat down, his face schooled into an impassive mask.
Jassy tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. He didn’t say anything, just sat there, glowering at her.
“So, tell me, Jim,” she said brightly, “how long have you been here?”
“Just a few months. Will you be staying long?”
“I’m not…”
“No,” Creed said, fixing Phillips with a hard stare. “She won’t be staying long.”
Phillips glanced at Jassy. It was obvious, from the expression in his eyes, that he was wondering about her relationship to Creed.
Jassy shifted uncomfortably in her seat, embarrassed by Creed’s rudeness.
Creed continued to stare at Phillips, his gaze openly hostile. Finally, Phillips took the hint, bid Jassy a hasty farewell, and left the dining room.
“So,” Creed said, “how’d you meet him?”
“He was alone. I was alone.” Jassy shrugged. “He asked if he could join me, and I said yes. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Creed stared at her, surprised by the jealous rage that swept through him. She was supposed to be in love with him, yet she’d had no trouble at all finding another man. A younger man. A settled man, one with a steady job and no doubt an impeccable reputation. A man who could give her everything she wanted.
Everything she deserved.
“Following in your mother’s footsteps?” Creed asked nastily, wanting to hurt her.
As soon as the words were out, he wished he could call them back, but it was too late.
Jassy drew back as if he’d slapped her, her eyes growing wide with shock, then narrowing with anger.
“You don’t want me,” she said quietly. “You’ve made that very clear, so why should you care?”
“Jassy, I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” She stood up, her stance proudly defiant, her eyes glittering with fury. “It was probably a man like you who turned my mother into a whore. Good night, Mr. Monroe.”
He stared after her, feeling as though he’d been gutted and left for dead. And then he stood up.
“Jassy, wait.”
But she was gone.
He gave her a few minutes to compose herself, and then he went upstairs. But she wasn’t in their room.
“Phillips,” he muttered darkly.
He paced the floor, his hands clenched into angry fists. Had she made plans to meet him? Was she with him even now?
The image of Jassy in the arms of another man was like a knife cutting into his vitals.
Where was she?
The room seemed to close in on him. Muttering an oath, he grabbed his hat and left the hotel. It was a small town. How hard could it be to find her?
An hour later, he admitted defeat and returned to the hotel. The room seemed strangely empty without her there. He sat in the chair by the window and stared into the darkness, remembering the way she had looked sitting in the same chair earlier that evening, the way her eyes had lit up with welcome when he entered the room.
Swamped by remorse for his unkind words, he rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He was a fool, he thought, throwing away happiness with both hands because he didn’t think he deserved it, because he had always felt inferior. If his mother hadn’t loved him, why would anyone else? But all the excuses in the world couldn’t justify his cruelty. He’d had no right to say what he’d said, no right at all. And now Jassy was alone in a strange town, and it was all his fault.
And if she wasn’t alone, that was his fault, too.
Plagued by worry and a guilty conscience, he left the hotel and went to the saloon, hoping a drink would help.
It didn’t. Taking the bottle to a table in the back of the room, he sat down and stared out the window, intending to get gloriously, forgetfully, drunk.
He was draining his second glass when he saw Jassy. She was across the street, walking slowly, her head bowed, her attitude one of total despair. And it was all his fault.
He knew then that he was fighting a losing battle. He loved her. Maybe he had loved her since the first time he saw her in the alley back in Harrison.
Grabbing his hat off the back of his chair, he left the saloon and hurried after her.
“Jassy, wait.”
He knew she heard him, but she didn’t stop, and she didn’t turn around. She just kept walking.
“Jassy!” He caught her arm, forcing her to stop. “Jassy, listen to me, please.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Jassy, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it. I swear it!”
“I don’t believe you.”
He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at him.
“I’m sorry, Jassy. I don’t have any excuse for what I said except that…that I was jealous.”
“Jealous? You?”
Creed nodded. “Green with it. I looked at Phillips and I saw everything you deserve. Everything I’ll never be.”
Her lips twitched. “You were jealous? Of Jim Phillips?”
“Yeah.”
She couldn’t help it, she laughed out loud. Imagine, Creed being jealous of Jim Phillips. The idea was ludicrous.
“You wanna tell me what’s so funny?” Creed asked.
“You. You’re funny. Oh, Creed,” she said, laying her hand on his arm. “Don’t you see? Your being jealous of Jim Phillips is like a lion being jealous of a kitten.”
“Women like kittens,” Creed retorted irritably.
“I like lions,” Jassy said, running her hand up his arm.
“Forgive me?”
She tilted her head to one side, a mischievous expression in her eyes. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Why were you jealous, Creed?”
“Why do you think?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I love you, Jassy. That’s why I was jealous. Because I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Oh, yes.” She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking he’d never know how she’d longed to hear those words.
“I love you.” He drew her into his arms, one arm caressing her back. “I love you.” His lips moved over her face, raining kisses over her cheeks, her brow.
She gazed into his eyes, eyes filled with tenderness. “Will you tell me that often, so you don’t forget?”
“Every day,” he promised.
“All right, then, I forgive you.”
Hand in hand, they walked back to the hotel. Creed unlocked the door, lit the lamp, and found himself staring at the bed which suddenly seemed to fill the room. He was aware of Jassy standing behind him.
Slowly, he turned around to face her. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’ll spend the night on the floor,” he said, his voice thick.
“And if I don’t?”
“I’m gonna make love to you until the sun comes up.”
“Really?” She took a step toward him, remembering all the times he’d started to make love to her, then backed away.
“Really.”
She closed the distance between them. Rising up on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“Make love to me, Creed,” she murmured, her breath warm and sweet against his mouth. “Make love to me until the sun comes up.”
“Jassy…”
“You haven’t changed your mind already?”
“I just don’t want you to regret this.”
“I won’t,” she whispered. “I promise I won’t.”
“I asked you to be my wife a while back, remember?”
Jassy nodded.
“Th
ere’s bound to be someone in this town who can marry us.” He stroked her cheek with his fingertip. “I can wait one more day.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re sure?”
She started to say yes, of course she was sure, but then she thought of her mother, and Rose, and all the men they had known—known in the most intimate sense of the word. She had been ashamed of her mother and sister ever since she was old enough to know what they did for a living. If she let Creed make love to her now, she would be no better than the rest of the women in her family.
She looked at Creed, wanting him more than anything she had ever wanted in her life, and yet wanting to wait because she knew it was the right thing to do.
“It’s okay, Jassy. Like I said, I can wait one more day.”
She glanced away, wondering if he was angry, if he thought she was just a tease. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He placed a finger under her chin, tipped her face up, and kissed the tip of her nose. And then, resolutely, he put her away from him. “I said I can wait, and I can, but it might be better for both of us if you hopped into bed.”
“I love you, Creed.”
His hand caressed her cheek. “And I love you.” Funny, how easy those words came now, he thought. “And tomorrow I’ll show you just how much. But for now, I think you’d better get some sleep.”
“All right.” She frowned as he picked up his hat. “Where are you going?”
“Downstairs for a few minutes.”
Jassy bit down on her lower lip. “You’re not going to…”
Slowly, Creed shook his head. “No, Jassy,” he said with a wry grin. “From now on, you’re the only woman for me.”
A wave of relief flooded her cheeks with color. “Don’t be long.”
“I won’t. Good night, Jassy.”
“‘Night, Creed.”
He winked at her, then exited the room. In the hallway, Creed drew in a deep breath, exhaled it in a long, slow sigh. And then, resolutely, he went downstairs.
An hour later, he had everything he needed.
*
A low sigh of pleasure rose in Jassy’s throat as a calloused hand stroked her cheek.
“Wake up, Jasmine Alexandria McCloud. It’s your wedding day.”
Lakota Renegade Page 18
