Ruby's Song (Love in the Sierras Book 3)

by Unknown

  “No,” Sarah shook her head vigorously. “I was alone when he approached me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the money situation? We didn’t have to spend as much.”

  “I’ve never had to worry about money before. It took me by surprise how fast it went.”

  Marlena studied the ground. “How much do I owe Harrison?”

  “Nothing. If the debt belongs to anyone, it’s me.”

  A warm pressure expanded behind Marlena’s temples and she winced against the pain. Her head had been tender since Shakespeare’s blow, but this added information exacerbated the ache. She took a deep breath.

  “How wrong I was about you, Sarah,” she said, wiping a single tear from her cheek. “I thought you were good and decent beneath all of that pomp.”

  In her mind, she saw the faces of those she loved, those who loved her in return. Jess and all of the Kellys, Ellie and Sandy, Juliet…Dalton. The very image of him dragged her shoulders down with guilt. She’d led his greatest enemy right to him.

  She looked at Sarah again. “You were wrong about me, Sarah. I’ve never had nothing. I’ve had the love of my family. The love of a good man.”

  Shakespeare groaned. “For the love of God, shut up already. Your whining is almost as bad as Rosa’s was the night I killed her.” He devoured a piece of dried meat while Marlena gasped.

  “You killed Rosa?”

  He nodded, then squinted at the sky as if considering an idea as he finished his swallow of jerky. “Although, one might argue that you are responsible for her death.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I thought she was you. I watched her and Dalton through his bedroom window, carrying on like lovers and she had your dress on, the one I’d seen you perform in. Then, they had some sort of quarrel and shouting and she ran off. When I got to her and saw she wasn’t you, but a whore, well…a man will take some tail if he can. All it took was a few pats on the shoulder, a few whispered ‘there, theres’ and she told me all about her and Dalton’s fight. Seems he had a few choice words for her himself when he found out about the letter.”

  Marlena’s jaw clenched. “But why did you have to kill her?”

  He looked up, as if searching for a reason, and when one didn’t come to him he simply shrugged and grabbed another piece of meat. The men surrounding him laughed with gusto and Marlena couldn’t take any more. She laid down on the ground and shut her eyes.

  “No, no, no,” Shakespeare called. “There’ll be plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead. Now’s the time to look lively. What do you say, boys? Anyone ready for some fun?”

  A round of excited murmurs filled the air, and Marlena pinched her eyes shut as a shiver rippled through her body. A hand grabbed her hair and dragged her over to Sarah and Hazel, and the three of them sat, trembling and crying while five men towered over them. Shakespeare’s eyes darted to Hazel and he grimaced.

  “I’m not one for girl flesh, unless I can sell it off. Anybody else want to have a go?”

  A man stepped forward, his lip curled lecherously. “Me, boss.”

  “Don’t you dare touch her!” Sarah screamed and Shakespeare sunk the heel of his boot into her stomach, spurs and all.

  The man grabbed Hazel by the ankles and began dragging her off. Her tiny voice yelped and screamed as she struggled. Sarah grabbed Hazel’s bound hands, attempting to pull her away from the man. Hazel clutched onto Sarah for dear life while the male onlookers laughed. Marlena lifted her skirt and grabbed the pistol, cocking and firing in one smooth movement.

  The man’s trousers had been half undone when the bullet went into his head and he fell over. Shakespeare was closest to Marlena, and he turned on her with a murderous glare. She leaned away from him, cocking and firing again, hitting his arm. He roared and cursed her.

  “It’s time we teach you to breathe water.”

  He clutched a hand full of her hair and started to drag her until Sarah reached out and grabbed his ankles. Shakespeare didn’t have to kick her off. The other three men were already dragging her away and ripping at her clothes. Marlena felt as though her scalp would rip from her skull, as forcefully as he pulled. She barely had time to suck in a shallow breath before he plunged her entire head beneath the water.

  It was cold as ice and she swallowed a gasp. She pushed against his hand, fighting to rise above the water, but he was stronger. Her chest burned, shards of hot pain slicing upward into her throat, which began to spasm. Just when the thick black fear closed in on her, he pulled her above the water, where she coughed and sputtered, sucking in air and droplets from her air at once.

  “Please,” she gasped. “Please…”

  “Shut up, bitch!” he screamed before plunging her under again.

  She had less fight this time. Every instinct screamed at her to push, to rise, to breathe, to live, but he was unmoveable, and soon she gave into the cold caressing her face and neck. Her lungs pushed to open. Darkness closed in on her, drowning out the clear blue water. She couldn’t take it any longer. She had to breathe.

  Chapter 29

  Dalton spurred his horse into a breakneck speed until they soared over a hedge and into the camp. He had a revolver in each hand and fired in mid-air. Two of the bodies molesting Sarah fell to the ground. He scanned the area and found Shakespeare drowning Marlena and he leapt from the horse. The sound of a cocking gun hammer from behind drew his attention to the other man, but before he could raise his arm to fire, Indigo charged from the bushes and latched his teeth onto the man’s trousers, right between the legs.

  The man howled and dropped his gun, giving Dalton enough time to loose a bullet into him before turning on Shakespeare, who was already swiveling on his feet, brandishing his gun. Dalton kicked out and sent it flying into the water. Shakespeare stood with his arms raised in surrender.

  Dalton spared a glance down at Marlena to see she was alive and coughing on the riverbank. Hot red rage burned through him as he raised the gun to Shakespeare’s face and stared down the barrel. His breath heaved through bared, clenched teeth. If he could kill him a thousand times it wouldn’t be enough.

  “Now, hold on, Dalton,” Shakespeare began. “Just listen to me, boy…”

  Dalton cocked the hammer. “Shut up, bitch.” And fired.

  Once the body was on the ground, Dalton fired another round for good measure before he dropped to Marlena’s side. By then, she was through coughing, but still heaving full, deep breaths. He grasped her face in his hands until her eyes focused on him. When he saw their violet depths warm and fill with tears, he knew she was all right and he pulled her against him, holding her tight to his chest, filling his palm with her wet hair. Tears stung his eyes and he shut his lids against them.

  “Thank God,” he whispered. “I thought I was too late.”

  She coughed to clear her throat and pulled back. “I love you, Dalton. I want you to know that before anything else happens. I’ve loved you since I was thirteen, and I’m sorry for not believing you or trusting in your love for me.”

  He cleared his throat, catching her teardrops with his thumbs. “I love you, too. More than anything. And I’m sorry for leaving you in Boston. It was the worst mistake of my life.”

  Their lips met in a tender, yet fiery, clash. Tears slid down her cheeks, and he felt them trickle over their joined lips. Now that it was over, that she was safe, his body shook, wracked with fears he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, stroking her face with his thumbs. They rested like that for a long time, letting their love, their heat, blend together where their bodies touched. A low rumble of thunder pulled them apart.

  “We’ve got to take shelter,” Dalton said, looking at the sky. “I know a place nearby.”

  She nodded as he helped her stand and pulled a knife to cut her bindings. “How did you find us so quickly?” she asked. “He said you couldn’t track at night, that he messed up the trail.”

  “Indigo,�
�� he said with a proud grin before glancing in the direction he’d last seen him. The dog was lying on the ground, unmoving. Dalton’s smile faded and his eyes filled afresh with tears. “No.”

  He ran to his dog, sliding on his knees before him. “Indigo?” he whispered as he stroked the animal’s fur. When the dog’s ears perked and he lifted his head, Dalton collapsed onto his back on the ground and pulled Indigo into his arms, chuckling wearily.

  “Ah, good boy. I knew you wouldn’t leave me. Good, good boy.”

  Indigo licked his face before resting his head on Dalton’s shoulder. Soon, Marlena, Sarah and Hazel were standing over them. There wasn’t a dry eye among them. Dalton struggled to his feet and collected all of the horses, helping each woman mount after cutting the other two’s bindings. Hazel asked to ride with Sarah, so he handed her up. Before he climbed atop his horse, he took his coat off and handed it up to Marlena. She pulled it on with a grateful sigh.

  Rain began to fall. Indigo stood shakily beside the stream, lapping at the water. Dalton hoisted him up and Marlena held out her hands. “Give him to me,” she said. I’ll keep him warm and off his feet. He deserves it.”

  Dalton smiled and handed Indigo up into Marlena’s lap. She pulled the coat over him and hugged him close. The dog licked her neck while she stroked his head, cooing to him. The rain on Dalton’s skin was cold but his heart was warm enough to heat his entire body. He climbed onto the saddle and led the way.

  His homestead was only two miles away and they reached it in half an hour as lightning flashed over Lake Tahoe, purpling the sky and water. He helped the ladies dismount and pulled the key from under a rock to open the house for them. Marlena shot him a questioning gaze.

  “Are you sure we’re all right going in someone else’s house?”

  He smirked and winked. “I know the fellow. He won’t mind.”

  Her face turned curious but she shuffled into the house without a word. By the time he returned from stabling the horses, they had a fire going in the hearth and the ladies huddled before it. Indigo was curled up beside Marlena, his head resting on her lap. Little Hazel shivered and Dalton stepped further into the room, removing his hat.

  “Would anyone like a hot bath?” he asked and all three turned to him. He cleared his throat. “There’s hot water. That is, there will be when I light the furnace. There’s a bathroom down the hall. And the kitchen is fully stocked with an array of canned goods if you’re hungry.”

  He went to the kitchen and opened a tin of beans and another of cubed beef, pouring them into a bowl for Indigo. The dog’s nails tapped over the wooden floor as he trotted in for his meal. Dalton set down another bowl of water he’d pumped from the sink.

  “Sorry, boy,” he said. “It’s gonna have to be canned beef today. I’ll get you that deer, though, as soon as possible.”

  After another pat on Indigo’s head, Dalton stood and locked eyes with Marlena.

  “I’d love a hot bath,” she said. “Is there a lady who lives here with your friend that we might borrow some clothes?”

  Dalton pressed his lips in a thin line and shook his head. “It’s only a single fella, but you’re welcome to anything of his. Robe, blankets…trousers.” He laughed and she looked down at her wet gown.

  “My chemise is dry. It’ll have to do ‘til morning, as long as I can have one of those blankets you spoke of as a covering?”

  “Of course.” He removed a wool blanket from a trunk and handed it to her, along with a lit lamp. “I’ll light the furnace now to heat the water.”

  “Thank you.”

  She disappeared down the hall and the door shut softly behind her. He turned to the other two. “Blankets?”

  Sarah stood and went to the trunk with him, pulling two out. “I’m sure one of the man’s shirts would do fine for Hazel to sleep in, and I’ll follow Marlena’s example. If we lay our dresses out by the fire they should be dry by morning.”

  He nodded and left to grab one of his shirts, changing into dry clothes in the process. Sarah thanked him as he handed over the garment and he nodded.

  “I’m not talking about the shirt,” she said. “Thank you for rescuing us. If you hadn’t come along…I shudder to think what would have happened.” Before he could respond, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “I know you came for Marlena. I was wrong about you, and I’m sorry. You’re a fine match for her. More than worthy.”

  He nodded his thanks just as Marlena emerged from the bathroom in her chemise, the blanket wrapped around her. Her hair was damp and hung down to her waist.

  She strode around the room, studying the furniture, running her hands along chair backs, over the beveled edges of the bookshelves, accent tables and horse heads he’d carved into the flanks of the fireplace. She caressed them as if committing them to memory.

  “You have a fine home,” she finally said.

  He sighed and his shoulders drooped. “How did you know it was mine?”

  She leveled her eyes at him. “You think I don’t recognize your handiwork? Your little touches? Your love and dedication crafting every perfect line or curve?”

  His throat thickened warmly and he took a hard swallow. If she only knew how he’d imagined her body as he built this furniture. Every loving stroke of his hand, every gentle moment of bowing wood, knowing when to apply more pressure and when to pull back, etching it, molding and burning his imprint into it, was done with him imagining her supple form as pliant as the wood. When he looked at the room, he saw fourteen months of bottled lust, and all for the woman naively calling it to the surface again with her bedraggled and pure beauty, her flawless, wonderfully-beating heart.

  Sarah cleared her throat and stood. “I will help Hazel in the bathroom.”

  They left and it seemed like an eternity passed before Marlena walked toward him, closing the distance.

  “Show me the rest of the house,” she whispered.

  His heartbeat sped as he turned and gestured toward the staircase, stopping to grab another lamp on the way. Her appraisal meant everything to him. If she hated the place, hated all of his sweat and blood and hard work, it would cut him to the core. Her face scanned everything, every corner, every nook, every savored knot of wood or unusual grain pattern. He showed her the two smaller bedrooms, each with a simple bed and chest of drawers.

  “I haven’t had a chance to add much character to these rooms,” he said, almost apologetically. “I’ve spent more time on…” He chewed the inside of his cheek, not wanting to seem as physically eager as he was.

  She turned and raised her eyes to his. “On what?”

  He wet his lips. “The master bedroom.”

  Her eyes roved his face before locking onto his. “Can I see?”

  Managing a nod, he turned and led her into the next bedroom, the last on the second floor. His hand curved around the knob and he took a deep breath before pushing the door open and allowing her to enter first. He followed with the lamp and set it down on the washstand so he could wipe his sweaty palms on his pants.

  Her eyes went first to the elaborate headboard and studied it intently before she walked around the room. When she finally turned to him her eyes brimmed with tears, and he shut his eyes with a sigh.

  “It’s like seeing a part of your soul,” she said. “And it’s beautiful. Every inch of it.”

  “It was all for you,” he said, locking eyes with her again. “I wanted this to be your home, our home. Every design, not just of furniture but of floorplan, the kitchen,” he chuckled. “Even the plumbing was constructed with your comfort and tastes in mind.”

  She nodded. “And you know me well. In fact, no one has ever known me better. Not even my sister.” Her throat moved over a swallow. “You’ve always seen the real me.” She let the blanket fall to the floor. “And now I want you to see all of me.”

  The cap sleeves of her camisole hung off her shoulders and she reached up to slide them down her arms, one at a time, holding his gaze the entire time. He wa
tched her fingers shake, wondering if she trembled with desire, nervousness or from the cold. If her condition was anywhere near his, it was all three. His throat went painfully dry and the drum of his heart pounded all the way down to his feet.

  His gaze left her eyes and followed the path of her hands as she slid the garment over her ripe breasts, inching past her slim waist before stretching over the gentle flare of her hips; down beyond the golden thatch of curls between her thighs and along the sleek lines of her legs until he reached her ankles. Then, he retraced the path back up, admiring every bare inch of her until he met her eyes again.

  Bright, violet eyes waited with worry, with hope, with full and complete trust and vulnerability. Dalton studied her in silence. He had no words, knew no words that could articulate all that moved through his mind, his body. There was only one way to communicate what he felt, what he wanted.

  Chapter 30

  A tiny tremor shook Marlena’s body beneath his roving gaze. She’d never felt so exposed, so at-risk. Dalton loved her heart, but he had yet to see her body. Would he love that part of her as well? Would her form please him? Would she measure up to the beautiful flesh he’d been raised around, the voluptuousness of Rosa?

  He studied her without a word or any indication of his thoughts. Just when she would have knelt to retrieve her covering, he finally raised his gaze to hers, and the blazing desire she read in those blue irises stole her breath. His thoughts, his intentions, were all blaringly clear in that single moment, but if she’d had any doubts, his next actions would have dispelled them.

  In three paces, he crossed the room and took her mouth in a fiery kiss, plunging his tongue boldly into the hot readiness she offered. His hands went first to the roundness of her hips, but soon swept over every inch of flesh within reach. Rough, calloused palms climbed up her spine and down again, caressing the narrow part of her waist before diving down to cup her bottom.

  Her hands moved through his hair, relishing the soft silken feel of his dark waves, sliding her fingernails over his scalp. His hand caressed her bottom, inching further down until the tips of his fingers slid over her center. A hot breath of air sucked sharply through her teeth at the flood of pleasure racing from the spot. Slow and smooth, he worked his fingers over her wet core, pressing and kneading, sliding away only to come back and tease the spot again. She leaned her head back and shut her eyes until a single digit moved up and inside her.