An Inescapable Attraction

by Sydney Jane Baily

  That was the best thing—to have her disappear. So why did he feel like howling?

  He picked up his coat and his hat and was out the door fast, slamming it shut so he didn't have to think about her or her circumstances or what would happen next. However, he only got a few steps along the narrow, slanted hallway when he stopped.

  He closed his eyes but saw her face, serene and resigned. When he opened them, he took a deep breath before he slammed his fist into the wall beside him. Man, that hurt, but he felt better.

  Ellie Prentice, the girl he'd wanted all his life was merely yards away. And she didn't need Riley, the doctor. She needed him, someone who knew the world of Jack Stoddard and card parlors and cheating and guns. He stared at his throbbing hand, glad it was his left one. He counted to ten, then twenty. Then he turned around.

  Thaddeus stopped outside the door to the room that held a grown woman, no longer the girl he'd always been infatuated with. He didn't know this woman at all, did he? He didn't know this Ellie who could palm an ace and marry a stranger. Then he heard her. Crying. Just a quiet snuffle, then another—a sound that clutched at his heart and squeezed it so hard he couldn't breathe.

  This was not his battle, was it? Hell, no! He listened a moment longer. Damn it all! He was going to help her.

  He shoved the door open and was surprised to see that instead of being curled up on the bed weeping, she was still sitting as he'd left her, ramrod straight—with tears rolling down her cheeks. She wasn't trying to stop them; she wasn't even dabbing at her lovely face.

  He dropped to her side, laying his possessions on the floor, and wiped at her tears with his thumbs. That wasn't right. He fumbled for a handkerchief that he knew he didn't have, and in the end, he grabbed for the edge of the blanket on which she sat and used it to dry her face.

  Riley would have had a clean white handkerchief. Thaddeus sighed. He was no hero, that was for sure, but he was all Ellie had.

  Her eyes were big as all-day suckers when she looked at him.

  "I hate you," she murmured.

  That was the first sensible thing she'd said all day.

  Chapter 4

  By dinnertime, Ellie had slept several more hours, and Thaddeus was determined to get her as far away from Wataga and the Mississippi River and, especially, from Jack Stoddard as possible. What she really needed was another good night's sleep and another full day of rest because "weak as a kitten" wasn't going to get her far. But he couldn't risk waiting around any longer.

  Bart must have made it almost all the way back to Stoddard's riverboat in Hamilton by now, and sure as God made little green apples, Thaddeus knew Stoddard would send him out hunting again.

  And not for Ellie, alone. The items from Stoddard's safe were burning a hole in his bag, and he could almost hear Stoddard screaming for their return. Thaddeus would be suspect number one.

  Over a last meal with the Grindels, he formed a plan to get Ellie to Boston. His sister, Charlotte, was a problem-solver, and this was a problem, if ever there was one. And luckily, Charlotte had married a top-notch lawyer. If anyone could help Ellie get out of her sham of a marriage, it was his sister's husband, Reed.

  He argued with himself whether to tell her what he had in mind or keep it to himself until they were approaching the steps of the Malloy house on India Wharf and could smell Reed's French chef's cooking.

  "What are you thinking about so hard, Thaddeus? Your forehead's all wrinkled."

  Ah, she was awake at last. He supposed he had to tell her the only plan that he could think of. He couldn't see her cooperating otherwise.

  "Sit up, darlin'. You missed supper, so I brought you up a bowl of Mrs. Grindel's fine stew." He put the tray on her lap and waited until she began eating.

  "I think we need the help of a trusted lawyer," he said, watching while she swallowed the first spoonful. "And I know exactly the man for us, someone you know."

  "Someone I know?" she repeated. "The only lawyer we ever had in Spring was that Dunphy fellow, and I think he was as crooked as a grasshopper's hind legs."

  Thaddeus remembered him, too. "No, not him." He took a deep breath. "You remember Reed Malloy?"

  She paused, with the spoon halfway to her lips. Oh, he could see she remembered him all right. Thaddeus had heard from Charlotte that, despite being engaged, Ellie had done her fair share of flirting with the handsome attorney. Of course, Reed had eyes solely for Charlotte.

  Thaddeus smiled. He couldn't be happier that his sister had found such a faithful and fervent love, especially given the years of loneliness after their parents passed away.

  "Why are you grinning?" Ellie demanded. "What did she say regarding me?"

  Yup, no love lost between 'em. "She didn't say anything, except that you were surprised she'd caught Reed's interest."

  Ellie rolled her eyes. "Your sister was always welcome to him. I was merely looking for a dance partner when Riley was away. Nothing more than that. Charlotte has a penchant for stories."

  Ellie started eating again.

  Thaddeus narrowed his eyes. "Charlotte tells the truth, not stories; that's why she's such a good journalist. Besides, we're not asking her for help. We're asking him. Reed can get you a divorce."

  She finished her supper in silence, then said, "What makes you so sure?"

  Thaddeus sighed. "Reed is a crack attorney, Ellie, and drawn to hard luck cases. You're about as hard luck at the moment as I can imagine. Marrying Jack Stoddard!"

  He couldn't help twisting his mouth into a grimace of disgust. "Honestly, Ellie, I can't get over the stupidity! At least I understood your wanting to marry Riley."

  "I didn't want to marry either one of them," she protested, shaking her head so her golden tresses flounced.

  Distracted by the movement, he reached out to touch a lock of her hair. Then he realized what she'd said and stopped himself.

  "What do you mean you didn't want to marry Riley?"

  She picked up the tray and put it on the other side of the bed so she could get up.

  "Thaddeus, I am not going to sit here discussing Riley Dalcourt with you. If you think that Reed Malloy will help me—and can help me—then let's get moving. I never felt more like a fear-frozen possum than I do right now."

  She was right about that. They'd better move along. He was already packed up. She seemed to have very little to her name, although he supposed she'd left belongings behind when she'd fled Stoddard's riverboat.

  "Get your things packed, and I'll pay the Grindels the rest of what we owe. We'll leave as soon as you're ready." He started out the door.

  "Thaddeus," she said, stopping him. "Thank you for not abandoning me."

  He nodded, keeping his face shuttered though something inside him lurched and gave a brief hurrah. It was the first time he could remember hearing words of gratitude from Ellie to anyone, and wonder of wonders, she'd said them to him.

  However, his still-aching hand was a reminder that this was not a hog-killin' good time, and more importantly, that he hadn't stayed for the lightness in his heart when he was around her. That was in the past, before she'd made him feel like the least worthy piece of dung in Spring City.

  * * *

  And now he was going to spend the next two days or so riding with her soft body pressed against him. By his own doing. What a dim-wit! He'd paid the Grindels for their lodging and bought a horse from the local blacksmith, who'd received a nag as payment the week before and didn't need her.

  Not exactly a mustang, Thaddeus mused; still, he appreciated the horse's well-defined withers, long, broad back, and balanced gait. It would suit them fine for the next fifty miles until they reached the big station at Peoria, and even fifty or sixty more after that, if they went on to Panola.

  Ellie stood on the front step of the Grindels' inn, in the deepening twilight, hands on her hips, and laughed when she saw him leading the swaybacked horse.

  "It certainly lives up to its name," she remarked when Thaddeus told her their new ride w
as called Fortuna by the Mexican who'd given it to the blacksmith. "I'd say it has bad fortune written all over it."

  Indeed, the horse had scars on her hind legs and over her reddish-hued rump where she'd nearly been felled by some wild animal. But to Thaddeus, the "nearly" made all the difference between life and death. The seemingly docile pinto had to have some spirit to fight back and escape.

  He patted the horse on the neck and she turned her head, to either get a good look at him or to bite him.

  "She's not crow bait, yet. She'll do us fine."

  Thus, a few moments later, Thaddeus found himself on the back of Lucky, as he decided to call their horse, with Ellie nestled between his thighs.

  Immediately, she leaned comfortably back against his chest as if she didn't have a care in the world. He caught himself sniffing her hair before he told her sharply, "Can you sit up a little? I can barely breathe."

  She did as he asked for a few minutes, though she soon relaxed against him again, and he let her. Damn, but it felt good to have his arms around her, even just rocking in the saddle. If he closed his eyes, he could be eighteen again.

  They rode that way for an hour, with her humming occasionally, which made him smile, and him scanning the horizon though it was almost too dark to see anything at all.

  Suddenly, the blast of a gunshot cracked loudly through the air, followed by a second one that was close enough to startle Lucky. Thaddeus began counting as he always did. Two bullets spent. Without hesitation, he urged the horse into a hard gallop, directing her right then abruptly left, though he wasn't certain if someone was aiming at them or not.

  "Keep your head down and hold on," he advised Ellie, and they crouched low, his body hunched over hers—both as close to the horse's neck as possible. Two more shots reverberated through the night air, and Thaddeus saw dust kick up where they would have been if he hadn't jerked Lucky viciously to the side.

  "Shit!" He knew now they were definitely the target. Though the light from the half moon was enough for him to see how closely the bullets missed, he hoped it wasn't enough for their pursuer to take good aim. He counted off two more rounds, praying whoever it was had only one six-shooter, needing his other hand for the reins.

  After the sixth shot, Thaddeus kicked Lucky into a bat-out-of-hell straight line for another twenty yards before he jerked her into a zigzagging path once again.

  Tiny pricks of light shone through the darkness up ahead, given off by candles in the windows of what looked to be a small town—probably too small for a train station, though perhaps it had a sheriff or someone who passed for the law. And no one but a fool would head into a town of any size, guns blazing, even at night.

  Sure enough, no more shots were fired though Thaddeus kept pushing Lucky to maintain a steady gallop, thundering onto the main street. Then he slowed her to a cantor and straightened up, his back aching from the bent position.

  "You all right?" he asked Ellie.

  She didn't answer, as she sat up, but she grimaced before peering behind them.

  "You think that was one of Stoddard's men?"

  "I'd bet on it," he told her. "And not betting like Kelly Morgan, but more of a sure thing."

  She slumped against him again, not in a relaxed way but with an air of defeat.

  "Darlin', you didn't think this was gonna be easy, did you?"

  She shrugged and said nothing.

  "This is only the beginning, Ellie. Every step of the way Stoddard's gonna be on our heels. Or worse—ahead of us."

  She mumbled something.

  "What'd you say?"

  She turned her face and they were so close, he could read the resignation in her eyes.

  "He's not a man who likes to lose and he's not going to ever give up. Divorce or no," she said, sounding subdued.

  Thaddeus had entertained that very thought, but he intended to try every means within the law before he took matters into his own hands, if it came to that. No way in hell was he going to let Stoddard get Ellie back.

  A few minutes later, she spoke again, "Are we stopping here?"

  They were already on the outskirts of town, having traveled right through from one end to the other, and Thaddeus was weighing his options.

  "No," he said. "We keep moving while it's dark. I'd rather take my chances on the move than find we're surrounded come daybreak." For all they knew, three or four men were out after them.

  Hours later when the sun was coming up over the horizon, they found a place to hide and to sleep—a near-empty hayloft in a rickety barn on a destitute farm. Perfect, except for the fear that the whole structure would collapse around them.

  "Not as nice as the Grindels', but not the worst place in the world either."

  Thaddeus tried to sound cheerful, knowing that every muscle must be aching in Ellie's body since she wasn't used to traveling by horseback. Her absolute silence for the last hour confirmed that she was exhausted.

  He tethered Lucky to a tree about a furlong away; if the horse was discovered, their hiding place wouldn't necessarily follow.

  At the bottom of the loft's ladder, Thaddeus helped her reach the lower rungs before pushing her up from behind, his hands squeezing her rear while stopping her from falling back. Together, they collapsed onto the creaky wooden platform, sparsely littered with remnants of hay bales. Ellie slumped down, looking utterly miserable, her eyes already closed.

  "At least it's not a boxcar," he said, easing down beside her.

  He had his waterskin and a pack of sandwiches from Mrs. Grindel that he hadn't mentioned to Ellie, not wanting her to eat while on horseback. However, when he unpacked the provisions, her eyes snapped open.

  "You have food? Why didn't you tell me? I'm starving." She didn't speak again until she'd demolished two sandwiches and drank half the water. "I'd love a cup of tea," she said, after giving a small burp.

  He was still eating his second sandwich, savoring it, not sure when they'd eat again. "Personally, I'd like a beer and a cigarette."

  She wrinkled up her nose. "I despise cigarettes."

  He shrugged. He didn't have any anyway, so there was no use in talking about them.

  "Now what?" she asked.

  He wiped his mouth on the shoulder of his coat. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, what are we doing?"

  "We're getting a few hours of shuteye, then we'll continue. I think Peoria's too obvious in the direction we're heading. If I were Stoddard's men, that's where I'd be waiting for us. After the junction, though, they won't know if we headed north, south, east, or west."

  He leaned back against the splintered wall, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles.

  "Let's aim for Panola, after all. We have at least another day's travel to get there, and then we'll get on a train to Fort Wayne, and on through to Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. From there, it's a straightforward trip to Boston."

  She nodded and looked around her with a sigh. He figured she wasn't thrilled with her accommodations. Plus the journey ahead sounded exhausting, even to him.

  "Ellie, how did you survive on the road?" he asked with a wry smile. "You don't seem like the roughing-it type, despite the getup you were in when I found you."

  She blinked at him. "Oh, the gentleman's pants," she said, then laughed. "I'd forgotten about those. I stole them from one of Stoddard's dealers. Don't ask me how," she added when he opened his mouth to ask precisely that. "I left some lovely dresses behind, too," she said with a touch of regret. "My disguise got me away from the riverboat and all the way to Galesburg before I started feeling ill."

  "Before that," he prodded, "after you left Spring City, what did you do?"

  She looked thoughtful. "Well, what did you do in the years after you left?"

  He laughed. "I doubt we did the same things." He'd taken a walk on the wild side that nearly culminated in his death, and he was glad that those years were behind him. Mostly. He wasn't exactly settled down on a rocking chair smoking a pipe.
He was, as usual, on the run, but this time, with the prettiest woman he knew.

  She pursed her lips and looked even prettier.

  "No, Thaddeus, probably not. I rode a lot of trains because that seemed like fun. I was a waitress at a restaurant in Denver, and I was terrible at it. All those people were giving me orders."

  He guffawed, trying to picture a waitress who didn't want to hear what her customers wanted.

  "It wasn't funny," she protested. "I was propositioned by every male that walked in, or so it seemed."

  Thaddeus stiffened, his laughter stopping immediately, though she didn't appear to notice.

  "They fired me because I dropped so many plates and couldn't keep the orders straight." She smiled wistfully. "Then I went to San Francisco because I'd been there once with Riley, and I found it quite fascinating."

  Thaddeus told himself to uncurl his fists despite her face lighting up at a memory, maybe one of her and Riley.

  "I took a boat ride around the harbor," she continued. "I began playing cards on that boat, and then I met a man who said he could show me some easy games on the Barbary Coast." She laughed. "Even I could see that wasn't the place for a lady."

  "Thank the Lord," Thaddeus muttered, thinking of how dangerous that area of San Francisco could be. The only place worse was The Bird Cage in Tombstone, where he'd had the time of his life with a painted lady, scarcely escaping with his life. A few bullet holes were added to the ceiling that night.

  "I was on the Central Pacific for days. Lovely journey," she added. "I ended up in Reno. That's where I met your old friend, Kelly Morgan."

  "How'd you know to bring my name into it?"

  "Actually, he mentioned you first, much to my surprise. He said you were a quick study at cards."

  Thaddeus shrugged. There were better things one could do with one's time, but poker had come easy to him.