by Beth Ciotta
“Thank you for the compliment. But, trust me, it’ll work.” He shifted and smoothed his hand over her furrowed brow. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
The last week flashed before her eyes and she knew, without a doubt, that she could trust him with her life. Maybe even with her heart. “Remember,” she said, forcing a shaky smile. “You promised me amazing.”
He kissed her deeply, obliterating any lingering doubts.
She embraced the moment, reveled in the feel of his mouth and hands. She allowed nature to take its course. Soon her body was pliant and pulsing with need. She pleaded for release, begged.
Josh prolonged her agony, his sinewy body poised and quaking above her. “Since you know the way of things, you know there’ll be pain before pleasure, right, honey?”
Throat clogged with conflicting emotions, she nodded then, unable to withstand the anticipation, grabbed his wondrous backside and pulled him deep inside. The intrusion was swift and painful. She blinked back tears and prayed for pleasure.
“I was going to take it slow,” he said, his voice a strained rasp.
“Quick is usually less painful,” she whispered. “Usually.”
“A wildcat through and through.” He kissed away a renegade tear, dropped his forehead to hers, and remained still for what seemed an eternity.
“I’m still waiting for amazing,” she said, adjusting to the feel of him. It didn’t hurt that bad, but it didn’t feel that good either.
Then he began to move. Slowly at first, in and out, in and out, a strange friction that shocked her senses, making her tingle in a very good way. Then faster. Harder. She curled her fingers into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he took her on an indescribable adventure. How had she ever thought him too big?
“More,” she whispered, urging him deeper. Her mind swirled with vivid colors until a rainbow of sensations arced through her bucking body.
“Look at me,” he beckoned in a foreign tone.
She met his heated gaze, registered the desire, the affection … the confusion. Maybe he didn’t love her, but he felt something darn close. Tears pooled in her eyes as she experienced a grand epiphany. She no longer feared marriage. Loving him was worth the risk.
He thrust deep inside her, taking her beyond the stars. “Speak your heart, wife.”
Melting under the intensity of those beguiling eyes, she bared her soul. “I love you, Josh.”
He rasped her name and together they soared.
Her husband was a cad.
What kind of man ignored his wife the day after they’d shared such an intensely intimate experience?
Last night, after they’d both recovered from her first time, she’d expressed interest in a second time. Practice makes perfect, she’d teased, but he’d told her it was too soon. She’d be too tender. Tomorrow, he’d promised, and then he’d wrapped her in his arms and they’d fallen asleep spooning.
Waking up alone had been a disappointment—she didn’t feel all that tender—but then she’d brightened thinking he might be in the kitchen. Making her breakfast would be a very romantic gesture. She’d hurriedly washed, pulled on trousers and a shirt only to suffer more disappointment. He wasn’t in the kitchen. He wasn’t anywhere in the house.
Maybe he’d gone to pick her flowers.
She’d spent the next hour sitting out back admiring the Superstition Mountains, another hour tidying the house, rearranging furniture, trying to absorb the fact that this was now her home. Still no Josh. Concerned, she’d walked over to the Desert Moon. Maybe he was handling business.
He was. But not opera house business. According to Oscar, he and Seth, along with the help of a few other conscientious men, were building a jailhouse. “Civilization,” he’d said, “is coming to Chance.”
Fine. She understood the importance of law and order. There’d been a shooting and a robbery in the space of twenty-four hours. Something had to be done. But at least he could have left her a note. She was trying very hard to adjust to this notion of marriage. He’d sworn he could make her happy, and though he’d made her delirious last night in bed, this morning was another matter entirely.
Her anxiety mounted by the minute.
She knew she wasn’t very good company and yet Oscar kindly invited her to join him for lunch. Now they sat, just the two of them, at the long puncheon table that took up the greater part of the Moon’s kitchen. Paris obsessed and picked at her food. Oscar pored over paperwork in between bites.
“I could visit him at the building site,” she said.
Engrossed in his ledger, Oscar nibbled the end of his pencil then scribbled a set of numbers. “You could.”
“What if he gave me the cold shoulder in front of everyone?”
“Why would he do that?”
She shrugged, not that he noticed because his nose was buried in the thick ledger. Not that she’d confide in him anyway. Her fears were too personal. What if Josh was having second thoughts? What if her lovemaking was as bad as her cooking? Maybe that’s why he’d taken off. Maybe he couldn’t say anything nice so … “Blast!”
Oscar looked up from his paperwork. “Too strong?”
Paris blinked at her coffee. “Oh. No. I was just … ” She set down the mug and folded her hands in her lap. “Actually, your coffee is delicious.” Unlike mine. “And I very much enjoyed the biscuits and gravy. How would you feel about giving me some pointers on cooking?”
He raised his bushy eyebrows. “You think you need pointers?”
“Did you taste my stew?”
His lips twitched. “I could give you some tips. Mostly, I think you need to get a handle on your measurements. There’s a big difference between a pinch and a fistful.”
She was certain she had more to learn than that, but was touched by his diplomacy. Oscar Pike was exceedingly polite, and a very hard worker. Josh was fortunate to have him. “Maybe in an hour or so? When you’re finished with your bookkeeping?”
“Deal.”
“I’d like to bake a cake for Barky Bob. Today’s his birthday.”
“I had no idea.”
“I thought we could celebrate tonight at dinner. He’s feeling pretty low seeing that his wife isn’t around.”
He shook his head in wonder. “You’ve been in town two days and you know more about these men then I do.”
“It wasn’t hard. I merely expressed a genuine interest. Maybe if you engaged the customers in personal conversation.”
“Trust me. Men don’t share their feelings with other men.” His fleshy mouth drooped into a mystified frown. “Who knew Big Amos Rind was touchy about his size? Last time I tease him about it that’s for sure.”
It warmed her heart knowing that one of her ditties might have made a positive difference in someone’s life. When she’d asked Big Amos what he wished for most, he’d whispered, “Friends.” Apparently, his massive build and quiet nature kept most folks at bay. They thought he was mean, or stupid. He wasn’t sure which. His admission had inspired her to give a musical lesson. She knew what it felt like to be misunderstood, an outsider. A freak.
Only she didn’t feel like a freak in Chance. Maybe that’s because the residents were just like her, a little quirky. She very much looked forward to knowing them better.
“I realize my stew left a little to be desired, but do you think if we offer another free meal, the men will come back tonight?”
“Free?” He glanced at the numbers in the ledger, winced.
“Think of it as a party. A birthday party.”
He grinned. “They’d come back regardless. They like your ditties. They like you.”
She swallowed an emotional lump, still flattered and amazed that the men had enthusiastically encouraged her songs. Knowing that something she’d created, something that came so naturally, could bring such joy filled her with indescribable satisfaction. She recalled the way she’d felt the first time she’d heard Julio the Juggler sing his rhymes. She’d thought him clever and funny,
and imagined herself accompanying him on the piano. Or maybe creating a few whimsical rhymes of her own. But Papa had made it clear that he expected much, much more.
Just as he’d expected more out of Mama.
Only Mama didn’t care about stardom.
And neither did Paris.
For the first time in her life she felt more Elizabeth Garrett’s daughter than Daddy’s little girl. Like Mama, she’d fallen in love. Like Mama, she preferred family over fame.
The morning after the hot springs, Josh had mentioned something about making babies and her insides had turned all warm and squishy. She’d always loved being part of a big family. She adored her nephew and niece, and had often dreamed about having a similar brood plus four.
She wondered how Josh would feel about having three sons and three daughters, and somehow knew he’d embrace each and every one. The only thing bigger than his infuriating bossy streak was his heart. She also knew that, unlike her own father, he would never favor one child over another. It suddenly occurred to her how much attention Papa had given her in comparison to his sons. Sadly, it was probably because they’d shown no interest in the performing arts. How difficult it must have been for Mama to witness such blatant favoritism.
But regardless of her sudden empathy with the woman, she couldn’t entirely shake her adoration of the man who had lit up her life like a Christmas tree. A sharp pang of guilt stabbed at her stomach as she imagined Papa looking down on her from the heavens, somber eyes glittering with disappointment.
Oscar tapped his pencil on the table and cleared his throat. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”
She rose from the table, music roaring in her ears. “I just realized,” she said, drifting toward the piano and a brand new life. “I’m going to have to break a promise.”
“You do anything around here aside from spouting flowery introductions and consorting with Miss Adams?” Josh studied his slicked-up, sweet-smelling cousin with blatant disgust. He and Seth had stopped by the Lucky Lady five hours ago hoping to interrogate the man only to learn from a loose-lipped fiddle player that Mr. Burke and Miss Adams rarely stirred before noon.
It was one forty five.
Niles took a seat across from the two lawmen, stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankle. Dressed in a brown striped satin sack coat, paisley waistcoat, and loose-fitting trousers, he looked polished and pompous, traits apparently appreciated by the saucy Miss Adams. “Seeing that you’re a newlywed, I’m surprised you’re not lingering in the sheets yourself.” He cocked an eyebrow at Josh, a taunting sneer playing at his lips. “Trouble in paradise?”
The muscle in Josh’s left cheek twitched, other than that he managed to keep himself in check. He and Seth had discussed the possibility that Niles might go so far as to use Paris against him in whatever game he was playing. In order to protect her, he needed to downplay his feelings. According to Seth, it was plain to everyone but the daft that Josh was head over heels. Looking back, he realized he’d fallen in love with Paris the first night they’d met, the moment she’d socked him in the jaw. He’d spent a week and a half in denial. He figured he would’ve resisted the notion even longer if they hadn’t made love.
She’d overwhelmed him last night. Her courage. Her passion. She’d bared her soul and in return he’d silently pledged his heart. Something he’d sworn he would never do.
Well, hell. It’s not as if his life was going as expected anyway. He had Mason to thank for that. If he were here he’d apologize for cursing that stipulation and grab up the man in a damned hug.
He’d woken up at the crack of dawn, taken one look at his pain-in-the-neck wife sleeping peacefully in his arms, and had known for sure and for certain he wanted this new life. Spending the entire day in bed, making love until they lapsed into exhaustion was almighty tempting, but he couldn’t relax knowing she couldn’t so much as visit the town’s tented mercantile unprotected. Consumed with an urgent need to tame the likes of Burgess and Niles, he’d rolled out of bed and tracked down Seth. He wanted this mess done and over. He wanted to fill his home with love, laughter, and children. Passionate, creative, pain-in-the-backside children.
Unfortunately, Burgess remained elusive and Niles had been “indisposed.” Needing to do something constructive, he’d snagged a hammer and taken his frustration out on a pile of lumber, the only result a newly erected jailhouse.
Wound tighter than a coiled rattler he leaned forward, one forearm on the table, the other on his thigh, his hand a breath away from his Colt. “Seeing that there’s no love lost between us, why don’t we get to the heart of the matter?”
Niles smoothed his hands over his lapels. “Sounds intriguing.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Running you out of business,” the man answered bluntly. “If your wife keeps serving up meals like last night, it won’t take long.” He poked his tongue in the side of his cheek. “That why you’re up and at it so early, Josh. She as lousy in the bedroom as she is in the kitchen?”
Seth slammed a hand to Josh’s shoulder, rooting him to his chair. “Since we’re putting our cards on the table, Burke. I’m here to tell you that I’ve got call to believe you instigated the fire that demolished the original Lucky Lady.”
Niles laughed. “You think I burned down Tucker’s dance hall just so I could talk him into setting up business with me in Chance?”
Seth flashed a mirthless smile. “Pretty much.”
“As determined as I am to ruin my dear cousin,” Niles drawled, sliding Josh a loathsome glare, “even I wouldn’t go so far as setting an occupied building on fire.”
Josh glared back, his blood boiling with contempt. If it weren’t for Seth he would have already broken the bastard’s nose. “Maybe you hired someone.”
“Like Burgess Riley.” Never one to mince words, Seth laid it on the line. “Last year Josh locked him up for a spell after setting fire to the livery in Yuma. Word has it he’s been seen here in Chance. In fact, some say he’s the one who shot Cobb Sprite.”
“Which is why you were so quick to cover for him,” Josh said. “Wouldn’t do you much good if your henchman landed in the hoosegow, would it?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t a clue as to whom you gentlemen are referring. As far as Arnold Tucker goes, I was simply in the right place at the right time. He was strapped for cash and a venue. I had cash, thanks to dear old Dad, but was strapped for entertainment and expertise. There you have it.” He yawned. “Don’t you two have better things to do with your time other than badger an innocent man?”
Thinking back on all the despicable things Niles had done as a youth, Josh sneered. “There’s not an innocent bone in your body.”
“Funny,” his cousin replied, idly twisting the gold pinkie ring. “Mason said that very same thing the last time we spoke.”
Josh clenched his fist as he watched Niles toy with that damned ring. “Which was?”
The man shrugged. “I’m sure he told you all about it. The way he tracked me down after I ran away from home? Wouldn’t call it a happy reunion, though tears were involved. I might’ve come home, if he’d uttered a kind word,” Niles said, bitterness lacing his tone. “Seems he reserved all of his praise and affection for you. Your only downfall, he once told me, was that you’d vowed never to fall in love. Never to marry. He said he couldn’t let that happen as it would sorely disappoint your ma and pa.”
Josh’s gut twisted as the gleam in Niles’s eyes grew feral.
“Mason always was a man of his word.” He pushed out of his chair and slithered toward the bar. “To think I would have had it all if you hadn’t convinced that little gal to marry you within the allotted time frame.” He tossed back a shot of brandy and conjured a slow, evil smile. “You did tell her about the will, didn’t you? I’d hate to think Red might slip and say something out of turn. Did I mention she went to speak to Paris about writing her a song?”
“Strangers passing in the night
, by chance their lips did meet. Though they shared a moment’s fire, the kiss was incomplete.
“Fate conspired to lend a hand, desire became their curse. Both would fight against the fall, whose heart would be lost first?
“Destiny does as destiny deems. No forsaking. No in between. Forever in love. Forever you’ll be. For destiny does as destiny deems.”
Hunched over the piano, Paris let her anthem to Josh, now fully comprised of verse, chorus, and bridge, flow from heart to mind to fingers. Destiny. To think he had inspired such fierce musings. We were meant to be, Paris. She clung to the hope that he did indeed love her, and was simply too stubborn to admit it. Maybe in time … She trembled with emotion as she launched into the second verse, her voice reverberating throughout the deserted opera house.
“Lovers sleeping in the night their hearts and hands entwined. One has given up the fight, lost body, soul, and mind.
“One holds on to fear and doubt, won’t say the words aloud. Both afraid of what could be forever and for now.”
“Destiny does as destiny deems. No forsaking. No in between. Forever in love. Forever you’ll be. For destiny does as destiny deems.”
The music swelled.
“Lose your heart, you may risk your dream. But are dreams always what they seem?”
The last chord hung in the air as her fingers stilled, her mind working double time analyzing the meaning of that four-bar bridge. Josh’s subtle probing and insinuations about passion and dreams wormed into her thoughts. She thunked the heel of her hand to her forehead as realization struck with the force of a head on train. No wonder her brothers had pitched a fit when she’d tried to explain about her childhood promise. The words they had shouted, the ones she’d so effectively blocked out, now rang loud and clear.
William Garrett didn’t want fame and fortune for his wife or his daughter. He wanted it for himself. That’s why he’d spent so much time at the theater, and according to London, so much time with the featured starlets. She cringed, realizing she had been so enamored with the charismatic man that she’d been blind to his true nature. She’d also been insensitive to her mama and brothers’ feelings.
