by Unknown
Marlena stood still and quiet for a long moment before she pulled away and shook her head. “No. No, Sarah wouldn’t do that. Not to me. I saved her life. I helped her. She wouldn’t have done that to me. What would she benefit from it? You and I being together would have had no effect on the contract or my touring.”
His head lolled to the side. “Of course it would have, Marlena. This is the world I’m from.” He motioned to the room. “I’m the son of a whore and I’ve made a reputation of being a killer. You were afraid to come here to get your hair dyed, and you’re telling me being my wife wouldn’t have affected your reputation? Wouldn’t have affected the money you’re making for Sarah?”
She shook her head vehemently. “You don’t know Sarah like I do, don’t know what she’s been through. If what you say is true, that you’re not married and that you never sent the letter, the only person behind it has to be Elijah.”
Dalton shook his head. “Elijah doesn’t have a vested interest in you like Sarah does. And with her control over your life for five years...don’t you see how much sense it makes? Just like you marrying Harrison. I’m sure she had something to do with that as well. He is the perfect match for you. Rich man. Rich family. Rich tastes.”
Her eyes narrowed, turning to shards of violet and blue. “Leave him out of this. Harrison is a good man, and I accepted his proposal on my own, not by Sarah’s command.”
“You deserve a man like Harrison. He fits your life better than I do. You don’t think I see that? I know I don’t deserve you.” His fingers curled into fists but he held her gaze. “Rosa and I belong together. We’re the same kind of people. I just wish I could make my Goddamn heart and body quit you. It would be the best thing for both of us.”
Marlena swallowed hard. Her nostrils flared and she took a deep breath. “So, there is a Rosa? Make up your mind, Dalton.”
He looked her straight in the eye. “There was a Rosa.”
Her eyes fell steadily. “She’s dead?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “But our relationship is. It has been since I went to Boston and fell in love with you. I still love you, and even knowing it’s not the best thing for you, I want you.”
Her lips pursed while her eyes darted around the room. He thought her on the verge of collapse when suddenly the door swung open and in walked his mother, clearly stunned to find the two of them in her room. She must have sensed the tension between them. Still, she clasped her hands beneath her chin.
“Marlena...I mean, Ruby. How wonderful to see you again.”
But Marlena didn’t respond to his mother, didn’t even acknowledge her presence. She continued to stare at Dalton until her mouth fell open in a pained whisper.
“I...I have to go,” she stammered before racing past Juliet and out into the hallway.
Dalton rushed after her. “Marlena, wait!” he called. “Please.”
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, turning to lock painful, haunted eyes with him. All movement in the brothel stood still while female faces peered between the two of them. Rosa’s arms slid up his chest from behind and over his muscles.
“What’s wrong, mi amor?” she asked, planting a warm kiss at the base of his neck. Marlena spun on her heel. He called her name once more, shrugging out of Rosa’s embrace but Marlena ignored him, charging through the front door and out of his life again. The feel of hands and arms smoothing over his chest muscles again barely registered before he set Rosa away from him.
“Stop it,” he bit out, and she slunk back into the shadows. “Stop it,” he repeated, to God, to the universe. His heart couldn’t take much more.
Chapter 22
Marlena kicked Achilles harder than she would have normally found acceptable, but she needed to get away from Dalton as quickly as possible. All of his words raced through her mind, but she wouldn’t draw any conclusions until she spoke with Sarah. The mile from Virginia City to Gold Hill swept by at a rapid pace and when she finally dismounted and rushed into the the boarding house, it was full. Miners, lodgers, travelers, family, her fiancé and Sarah all bustled about. Without hesitation, she marched straight toward Sarah.
“I need to talk to you,” she said. “Come to my room.”
It could have been the statement itself or the nature of its delivery that had Sarah following Marlena without a word. When they were finally enclosed in her room, Marlena turned on Sarah and grasped her arms in her fingers like talons.
“Tell me it isn’t true, Sarah,” Marlena said. “Tell me you didn’t forge Dalton’s letter about Rosa.”
Sarah’s look of confusion was so immediate, so genuine, that Marlena doubted Dalton on the spot. Still, she let the songstress speak.
“What are you talking about?” she said.
Marlena took a deep breath through her nose. “Just please, confirm or deny it.”
“Why would I do such a thing?” she said defensively. “I never even knew of Rosa until you received his letter. It’s true I tried to dissuade Dalton from courting you. I didn’t believe his intentions were honorable, and he’s proven me right.” Sarah’s face relaxed and her gaze roved over Marlena’s. “What’s this all about? And why on earth did you do that to your hair?”
Marlena finally composed herself enough to look in the mirror. She growled low before clutching the sides of the vanity. Her teeth clenched and when she raised her face to the mirror again there was a definite snarl upon her lips. Dalton had dyed her hair blond, returned it to her natural color instead of replenishing the red she’d arrive in town with.
“It’s a long story, but never mind that now,” she told Sarah with a shrug. She went to the wardrobe and threw open the doors, searching for her gown, the one of deep red silk that shimmered when she was onstage. “Where is my gown?” She asked, and Sarah shrugged.
“It should be there.”
But it wasn’t. They’d searched all of her cabinets and trunks, even the laundry hanging outside to no avail. The gown was gone.
“Sarah, please cancel the show tonight,” she said. Too many things had already gone wrong in the day.
Sarah stepped forward, her brow worried. “But it’s sold out! If we cancel we’ll owe-”
“I don’t care about the money!” Marlena cut off. “Cancel the show.”
Sarah studied her, looking like she wanted to argue, but in the end she nodded and left the room. Marlena gripped the chair back near the window. Her gaze pierced the outside world so intently that she’d barely heard the knock at her door.
“Come in,” she called. The door opened and shut behind her.
“I know I shouldn’t be in your room.” It was Harrison. “But I can tell something has upset you, and I wanted to know if I could be of service in any way.”
Marlena’s eyes closed. Harrison was a good man, a gracious caretaker. He always sensed when Marlena was troubled, always knew how to cheer her, and never took issue that she needed cheering quite a lot over the past year. That sympathetic and caring heart was what drew her to him. From the beginning of their working relationship, she’d understood how he and Sarah could become so close. He was truly a man any woman would want by her side. And she’d never been more grateful for his warm and healing presence then after she’d read Dalton’s letter, the one that tore her heart to shreds.
Of course, Harrison hadn’t known Dalton was the man behind her heartbreak. They’d never discussed him by name, but she’d shared her feelings with him, and he’d been an unwavering comfort. Their friendship grew stronger and when he finally asked for her hand, she saw no reason not to accept. By that time, she’d given up all hope for a future with Dalton and knew Harrison was a decent alternative.
As his wife, she could expect a life of ease beside a man whose sole concern was her happiness. There would be no passion. She had known it before, but after kissing Dalton that evening, after being in his arms, there was no doubt in her mind. Her body, her heart, desired Dalton above all else.
Harriso
n cleared his throat behind her, reminding her of his presence. She sighed. The fair thing, the right thing, would be to release him from the engagement, to reveal her true feelings about Dalton. Harrison deserved to marry a woman who truly loved him beyond a friendly regard. She swallowed hard and turned to face him.
“Harrison, I don’t think you should marry me.”
He laughed softly, more a sound of pity, before leading Marlena to a seat on the bed. He knelt on one knee before her.
“What’s this, my love? Pre-wedding jitters?”
A teardrop slid from her eye as she met his stare. “That’s just it. I may be your love. But you are not mine. I’m so sorry.”
His lips smoothed into a sad grin and his grip on her hands strengthened. “Marlena, I am not a naive man. I’ve known all this time that I had not your whole heart. But I humored myself to think I might have a small fraction of it.” He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “At least?”
She laughed and nodded. “I do care for you. You’re wonderful.”
“Well, that’s enough for me,” he said, his smile widening. “I’ve never been married, and to be honest, you’re the first woman I’ve ever wanted to marry. I watched you grow into the fine woman you are, and from the moment I heard you sing I was enraptured. To have you as my wife would make me the happiest man alive. I can live with you not loving me as I love you. The question is, can you?”
She didn’t answer, but silently studied his brown eyes, so full of sincerity and care. And she felt the same way in that moment as she had when he’d proposed six months ago. If there was no future with Dalton, then she would happily marry Harrison. She’d never wanted to be alone. Always in her mind she’d dreamed of being a wife and mother. The question was whether there was a future for her and Dalton.
For an entire year she’d believed he had broken her heart. To think that might not be true, to think they both might be victims of some scheme, threw her into a whirl of emotions so thick she could hardly decipher what she felt from one moment to the next. She wanted to believe Dalton, but there were too many unanswered questions. Who sent the letter? And why?
“Harrison, I need some answers of my own before I can truthfully answer that question for you.”
He nodded. “Shall I inform the others the wedding is off?”
“No. Say nothing and leave the plans as they are. I have a feeling I’m going to know one way or the other very soon.”
He cleared his throat and raised his eyes to hers. “This man you love. Is it Dalton?”
She looked at the floor and nodded.
“He’s not your cousin, is he?”
“No.” Her eyes clouded with tears and she buried her face in her hands. “I’ve loved him since I was thirteen. In Boston, I thought he loved me back, but then his letter had me doubting. And now, he says he didn’t send it and that he never married another, but then she was there, touching him and kissing him. I don’t know what to think about it all, Harrison. I’m so confused and overwhelmed. I’m relieved he’s not married, but I’m absolutely terrified of having my heart broken again. Then, I feel guilty when I look at you. I hope you know how deeply I care for you. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
For the first time, Harrison wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest, shushing her. “You’re a good woman, Marlena, but don’t let your care for me determine your future. The only person’s feelings you need to consider are yours. Do you want a life with him and all of its challenges? Or do you want a life with me that is safe and reliable?”
He kissed the top of her forehead before rising to leave. When he looked back on her from the doorway, his eyes were full of sadness. “For what it’s worth, thank you for accepting my proposal six months ago. I’ve been a happy man ever since. But I love you enough to want to see you happy, and if you won’t be happy with me, I’d rather you not marry me. I’m not a totally selfish being.”
Marlena shook her head. “You’re not selfish at all.”
He smiled. “Perhaps it would have boded better for me in this situation if I were.”
With that, he left the room and Marlena lay down on the bed, clutching the pillow to her as she cried. Soon, there was another knock at her door and she wiped her face before opening the door. It was Sadie, Ellie’s hired helper, who brought a note that had just been delivered.
Marlena took a deep breath, expecting Shakespeare’s words on beauty and love, but she received far worse.
‘O death made proud and pure with princely beauty.
Icy tingles rushed up her spine. This broke with his normal pattern. Why would Dalton write to her of death? A metaphor, perhaps? The pain in her heart was familiar. It was the pain she felt when she thought Dalton had broken it before. But there was another feeling weaving through her. Apprehension. The note was unsettling, unnerving and the fact that Dalton would want her to feel such feelings in addition to the heartache he’d just reissued had her temper in a whirl.
She lifted and slammed a chair onto the floor, muttering, “What the hell is going on?”
Dalton stared at the basin, at the chair Marlena had sat in, where he’d studied her face with its fine lines and smooth skin, the chair she’d slid out of to fit in his lap and explore the depths of their passion for one another. His mother entered the room behind him and slammed the door. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, expecting to hear the full roar of her lecture. After several long moments of silence, however, he turned to find her leaning against the door, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Before he could speak, she did.
“You break my heart, Dalton,” she said.
He took a step forward. “What do you mean?”
“All of these years, I thought you’ve fought for me, beat down anyone who even thought an insult in my direction.”
“I have-”
“And here you are, levying the greatest insult of them all.” She pushed away from the door and stomped toward him. Her hand whipped out and slapped him across the cheek. “I won’t let you use me as an excuse any more. If you settle for a life less than what you want, less than what you deserve, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Mother, what are you talking about?”
“Tell me, Dalton, if the king of England arrived in Virginia City and fell in love with me, would I be worthy of his love?”
“Hell yes,” he answered without hesitation.
She released a deep breath and shook her head back and forth slowly. “Then, why don’t you feel worthy of Marlena’s love?” He said nothing and she nodded. “It’s because you’re the son of a whore, just like you told her. Well, let me tell you something, you son of a whore.” She stepped so close to him that he had to take a step back. “I’ve never cared what anyone thought of me. Except for you. And now that I know how you truly feel about me…” Her lips quivered and she pressed them together. “My heart is broken.”
A tiny bulge leapt into his throat. “Ma, that’s not true…” He reached out to enfold her in his arms.
“Don’t tell me it’s not true, Dalton. If the only reason you don’t feel good enough for Marlena is because I gave birth to you, then it is true. If you truly believe I am good, then you, who came from me, are good.” She raised her glassy blue eyes up to him. “You can’t have it both ways, Dalton. Either I am good and you are good, or we are both unworthy.” He contemplated her words as she gripped his arms in earnest. “You and Marlena belong together. You deserve each other because you love each other, desire each other. Everything else is noise and distraction. Don’t let it drown out what matters most, what your heart truly wants.”
She sobbed again and Dalton pressed her to his chest, chastising himself for the many times he’d made his mother feel inferior with his self-doubt, his acquiescence to public opinion. But she was right. If he believed the world of her and what she had to offer, then he was as worthy of Marlena’s love.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” he finally said, the words strai
ning out over choked emotion. “You’re right. You’re right about all of it. Forgive me.”
She cried until her body sagged in his arms. He cradled her and carried her to her bed, where she fell asleep peacefully. Night had fallen and he felt too spent, too weary to begin the journey back to his homestead, so he resolved to stay another night.
Chapter 23
Dalton stripped down and went to bed. Sleep came quickly and brought with it a dream. Marlena’s scent drifted over him, filling his nose and body with love and desire. In his dream, she appeared in his room, dressed as she was the night he’d seen her at the Boston Opera House. A gleaming crimson gown belled away from her tiny waist and glistened in the low lamplight. Her form curved and rounded in all of the best places and he smiled.
She strode toward him, a sensual smile on her lips, and climbed into bed with him, caressing his arms and chest with her wandering hands. Soon, her warm lips pressed against the beating pulse in his neck. Her tongue slid out and stroked it. He wrapped his arms around her, urging her to taste more, explore more. She complied by sliding her hand down over his tight erection. She stroked over him, circling the heel of her palm over his most sensitive spots and he laid his head back and groaned.
He’d imagined her touching him like this, purposefully, confidently. Soon, she brought her lips to his and a sweet familiarity lulled him into kissing her back. He pictured her eyes, hot with desire, her mouth with a lustful curve of the lips, and he plunged his tongue into it, sought her breasts with his palms.
“Mi amor,” she breathed against his lips and his eyes flew open. His hands stopped their reach. His body went still and soft, instantly cooled by the reality of the situation. He glanced up to see Rosa straddling him, her eyes aflame with love and desire, her body cloaked in Marlena’s ruby dress. He took a deep breath and shoved her from his lap, depositing her onto the bed so he could stand and pace about the room.
“What the hell are you doing, Rosa?” he demanded.
