An Inescapable Attraction

by Sydney Jane Baily

  "See, Thaddeus," she directed when she realized he wasn't enjoying the sight. "Mrs. Longwood told me that Dan kept it up so it wouldn't be all running wild. Wasn't that sweet of him?"

  Thaddeus tore his gaze from her face and glanced at the garden with its white-painted arbor and its colorful flowers. Where the cultivated area left off, the natural beauty of Colorado took over and stretched away into the distance. However, at that moment, he didn't give a fig for what was out there, only what was right beside him.

  "It's beautiful," he agreed. "I don't think I ever saw it before from this angle, not during the daylight, anyway."

  He was teasing her. If he'd ever been on her back porch, it had been at night, trying to get her to come to her window or, that fateful time, to sneak a kiss and take her back to his barn.

  She didn't seem to hear him. "When I got back here, after such a long time and all those adventures, I was happy as a clam at high water."

  He noticed she rubbed her hand over her curved stomach. Apparently, she held no resentment over being pregnant. That thought had worried him from the moment Charlotte had blurted out Ellie's condition. What if Ellie was plain pissed off that she carried his child? Yet, she didn't seem mad at all.

  "It's odd, though," she continued, "that everything wasn't quite as I left it. I mean, Doc is gone and Riley," she added, her voice low. "All the small changes seem huge. Everyone looks a little different, and they treat me differently, too."

  Mrs. Longwood came out with a pitcher, ice clinking in the pale liquid, two glasses, and a plate of finger sandwiches on a pale green tin tray.

  "Oh, my," Ellie said, "That looks heavy. You should have had Thaddeus carry it. Just set it down. Do you want to join us? You've made enough for an army."

  Thaddeus met the housekeeper's gaze over Ellie's head. With a small look they exchanged, he knew Mrs. Longwood had noticed the astonishing alteration in her employer's behavior—noticed it and by the crinkling of her eyes, liked it.

  "Now, dear," Mrs. Longwood said, "you know the doctor told you to eat well. So have two sandwiches, and I'm going right back to my kitchen to put my feet up. Let me know if you need anything else." She shot Thaddeus another glance, neither a particularly friendly one, nor a hostile one, either.

  Ellie shook her head as the older lady left. "Everyone is so sweet, Thaddeus. Is it because of my condition? Or did I never see before what a nice group of folks we have living in Spring?"

  He nearly laughed at her strange perception. She didn't seem to get that her own shift in attitude was the real change. He assumed everyone she interacted with in town noticed it, too, and were responding in kind. But at least she'd mentioned "her condition" for the first time, as if it was an old topic between them. But the housekeeper had mentioned a doctor. That one word had snagged his attention, spiking a surge of anxiety.

  "Why did you need to see a doctor?"

  She froze, keeping her gaze far afield.

  "Ellie?"

  She turned her head and looked right at him, yet he couldn't begin to decipher the swirl of emotions he saw in her eyes.

  "I thought you knew." Her cheeks suffused with pink.

  "About the baby?"

  She nodded.

  "Of course, I do." Did she think she wasn't showing? Or that he was such an oaf he wouldn't notice? "Charlie told me. Even if she hadn't, don't you think I might have noticed something a little different about you?"

  He smiled wryly but she still looked serious, so he asked again, "Why did you need the doctor?"

  "I simply wanted to see who was going to deliver the baby. And I liked her. Dr. Bell is her name. She was very no-nonsense but kind, too."

  He breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing was wrong with mother or baby. Now, he could finally ask her the question that had haunted him while he healed.

  "Ellie, why did you run away? And for God's sake, woman, why back to Stoddard?"

  Ellie bowed her head and looked at her lap. Then she reached for a sandwich, which she didn't eat. "He's dead, you know." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I did it. I killed him, myself."

  Thaddeus clenched his jaw and felt as though he'd been punched. This petite woman beside him, carrying a baby, had taken out Jack Stoddard.

  "I knew he was dead," he said. "You told Jo and she told me, right after she let me know you'd left the saloon. Ellie, sweetheart, I'm sorry you had to shoot him. That was my job."

  "You sort of mucked it up for me," she said, not harshly, but with a regretful laugh. "I had the winning hand. I just know it. I was ready to beat him fair and square, but then I heard your voice. I left the deck on the table. Alone. With him."

  Thaddeus whistled. "Even if you'd turned over a winning hand, you're crazy, darlin', if you think he would've let you walk away."

  She shrugged. "I was playing for three lives at that point," she murmured. "I had to continue. He thought so little of me, he gave me a gun for insurance. It was loaded—can you believe it? That's what surprised me when the time came."

  When the time came... to shoot Stoddard.

  He wanted to take Ellie in his arms, but he wasn't sure she'd welcome it; she seemed distant as the puffy white clouds that hovered over the mountains on the horizon.

  "You saved my life," he told her. "Twice."

  She glanced at him. "You shot just about everyone else, both on the train and on the riverboat, so you saved mine, too. More than once."

  "You wouldn't have needed saving again if you hadn't run away from Charlie's house. Why did you do it, Ellie?" he asked for a second time.

  She took a sip of her sarsaparilla and a bite of her sandwich. He could wait her out. Grabbing a sandwich off the white china plate, he took a small taste and then recalled with the first delectable swallow of baked ham and fresh bread that Mrs. Longwood was known as a good cook.

  Wolfing the rest of it down, he reached for another. He could sit with the woman he loved in companionable silence and eat a sandwich, but he would get his answers from her, make no mistake.

  Finally, she leaned her head back on the swing.

  "Do you recall the night we stopped at that hotel near Burlington?"

  What a silly question! That was the night they'd made love for the first time—well, the first time he could actually remember, the first time after doing it in his barn. He had treasured every memory of that night at the hotel and every other night and every day he'd ever spent in her company. But all he said was, "Of course."

  "You went down the street to the saloon on the corner, after we argued."

  He nodded and strands of his conversation with the old cowboy drifted back to him.

  "I followed you," she added.

  He choked on his sarsaparilla. When he could speak again, he said, "You did?"

  She nodded and handed him a napkin from the tray.

  "I was upset," she said. "We'd had a quarrel."

  He remembered it distinctly though they'd argued about nothing important. He recalled how his skin had felt too tight and the hotel room had become too small—it was the first time in his life he'd loved the person he'd been to bed with, though it had taken months for him to realize that's what the emotion was. Love. Stunned by the sheer terror at feeling so connected to her, he'd bolted for the door.

  "I was behaving childishly," he admitted. Why was it so easy to say that now? "But you knew I'd come back, didn't you?"

  "I trusted that you wouldn't leave me stranded, but I was confused, too" she admitted. "I thought you might have gone out looking for... that is,... to find some female company."

  Good Lord, she had no idea how gone he was for her. He'd not wanted another woman, hardly looked at one, since he'd found her in the boxcar.

  "We had just been intimate. Why in heaven's name would I look elsewhere?"

  She twisted her own napkin in her hands. "Thaddeus, how was I to know if I'd done it right?"

  Well, damn! Could she really not tell that she'd rocked his foundations, shaken him to the core?
<
br />   "Ellie, I only wanted a drink and a cigarette."

  "I found that out, but I was eavesdropping."

  "Oh." What had he been spouting off about that night? The cowboy was full of advice concerning women, none of which made sense or sounded right. But Thaddeus had been happy to agree and drink with the man anyway.

  "What did you hear?"

  She glanced at him, then away. "That the last thing on God's green earth you'd ever want is to tie yourself down to the likes of the hellcat, meaning me, who was waiting for you in your hotel room."

  She bent her head as if to sip her drink, but he heard her sniffle.

  Hell's bells! "Ellie, I—"

  "That you'd always been free like a mustang, and you liked your life that way and wanted to stay that way until the end of your days. Unless something better came along. But not that bitch who—"

  She stopped and tried to take another sip, but her hand was trembling, and he knew she was starting to cry.

  "Ellie, sweetheart." His heart broke into little pieces at the sight of her tears. He took her glass from her and put it down with a clunk. Then he took both her hands in his.

  "I'm sorry. I was..." Christ! He didn't want to tell her he was scared. "First of all, I never called you a bitch. Second, I was angry. You were angry, too, that night."

  "Yes, I was, but I didn't walk away from you and go complain to a stranger."

  Her lower lip quivered, and she dropped her gaze to their clasped hands. "In answer to your question, I left your sister's house because no one could make me stay if I didn't want to. It took me months to realize that I could simply leave just the way you had. Months of waiting for you, I might add."

  He tightened his grip on her slender hands.

  Before he could apologize again, however, she continued, "I was through letting other people handle the mess I'd made. The only way to fix it was to go see Stoddard, or so I believed." She wiped at her face once more, crumpled up the napkin, and tossed it on the table.

  "And you know something, Thaddeus, unlike you and that ol' cowboy, I would have gladly 'tied myself down,' if you'd asked."

  His heart thumped painfully. Here goes everything, he thought.

  "Well, I'm asking now." He wished his voice had sounded firmer instead of hoarse and gravelly.

  Her gaze, which had remained on their entwined hands, flew up to his. She looked shocked and doubtful—definitely not the trusting, loving expression he'd imagined.

  He swallowed past the nervous lump in his throat.

  "I would like us to be married, Ellie."

  He'd planned a speech about how much he loved her and always had done, and how they'd been destined since childhood. As he looked into her blue, jewel-bright eyes, it all fell by the wayside, and his brain felt swept clean of any useful or coherent thoughts.

  She stared at him, maybe waiting for the rest of that fancy speech.

  Come on, Thaddeus, think.

  "We're good together, like rye and whiskey," he added. "When you're with me, darlin', everything comes out aces high."

  She tried to pull her hands out of his. He tensed. He had to do more.

  "And there's our baby. I'm not going to beat the devil around the stump; I'm willing to acknowledge it's mine and do right by you and it, I mean, him or her."

  She frowned and, at last, managed to pull free. Standing up, she looked down at him, not with the old imperious expression of late but with simple weariness.

  He stood up, too, wanting to take her into his arms, but she shook her head.

  "I'm sorry, Thaddeus. I seem to cry over everything, even a cracked eggshell. Mrs. Longwood tells me it's because of my condition. It doesn't mean anything."

  Her hands fluttered in front of her, warding him off. "I'm tired. I bet you are, too, after your long journey. Why don't you go home?"

  By God, she was dismissing him and his half-assed marriage proposal.

  "I hope you still have some furniture and whatnot. At least a bed." She stopped abruptly and blushed.

  He had never intended to be confrontational, but suddenly, he stood facing her, feet planted, arms crossed, feeling his jaw tense before he asked her the question that would change his life: "Are you saying you won't marry me?"

  She pursed her lips, her sweet pink lips that he ached to kiss. "I'm saying that I appreciate your kind offer to acknowledge your child."

  He winced. It sounded even worse when she said it.

  "But with or without your acknowledgment, I'm having it," she said flatly. "And right now, the baby is making me tired. I'm going to lie down."

  "Ellie—" Shit! What should he do? He'd expected to leave here as an engaged man.

  She took a step away from him before swinging her glance back, staring him right in the eye, all traces of tears vanished.

  "Your proposal doesn't interest me the way it once would have. That's what I'm saying. If it were still only me, I might try my hand at taming the wild mestengo, but I'm going to have my hands full soon enough."

  Mrs. Longwood appeared as if on cue.

  Ellie smiled at her, a genuine loving smile, the one that Thaddeus wanted for himself. "Would you please show our guest to the door?"

  Well, hell! How dare she talk about him—like a guest—as if they were a couple of old ladies who'd had tea together. He snatched up his hat.

  "I know the way. I can show my own damn self out." And right when he wanted to be the most grown up of men, someone she could count on as a husband, he stomped off like an angry child.

  Chapter 16

  Thaddeus walked through his empty house, recalling the past but trying to see the future. He poked his head into the study where his father's desk had always been. Charlotte had that now, along with anything that had been of any quality or value.

  Years ago, he'd made it clear to his sister that he wasn't ever coming back here to live, and she'd taken him at his word. The study appeared strange, nearly painful to look at, without the books on the shelves, without Charlotte seated at her typewriter.

  Down the hall in the sitting room, he smiled to see both his mother's uncomfortable sofa, with its hard straight back, as well as her old upright piano. Sophie and Riley had fallen in love over that piano—at least, that was the story at their wedding. Thaddeus touched a few keys and listened to the notes die out in the stillness.

  The only other things left in the house were a table and chairs on the ground floor and a bed upstairs. But a mattress and pillows, remained, too, so he counted himself lucky.

  He sat down on the bed, feeling defeated. Yes, he was so surefire lucky! What an idiot! You just didn't go asking a woman like Eliza Prentice to marry you without your speech ready and a shiny ring.

  Riley would've known that. After all, he'd persuaded two beautiful women to agree to marry him.

  Thaddeus cleaned himself up and went to Ada's saloon for a chicken dinner and some good beer. After dinner, he accepted free drinks from every man jack who was glad to see him home again, but he didn't accept the invitation from Ada for "dessert" in her room. He'd known her since he was a young lad, when she was already a woman of middle age; she was one saloon "girl" who'd never tempted him, not with her dyed black hair, thickly rouged cheeks, and painted lips.

  No way, no how! Not enough whisky in the world. He and Riley had a pact that Ada was one woman with whom they'd never entertain themselves, not after Riley learned about certain ailments and explained to his younger friend how one contracted them.

  "Where's Dan?" he asked, changing the subject from her insistence on taking him upstairs. He missed seeing his old friends at the saloon. He knew Riley was in San Francisco, either in the hospital helping people or at home with his lovely Sophie.

  But Dan? Where would he be on a Friday night?

  "He's home with his missus," the bartender offered.

  Thaddeus choked on the liquid going down his throat.

  "What did you just say?"

  "He's been married about four months." The ba
rtender turned to Ada. "Four months for Dan, right?"

  She leaned closer to Thaddeus. "That's right. Now, with Dan, I can understand him turning me down. After all, he's got relatively new flesh at home. But you, Sanborn, why aren't you up for a quick jaunt? From what I've heard over the years, you're quite the studly skirt-chaser."

  She squeezed her bosom up under his nose. "It's not often you can find me available without a prior appointment." She giggled as if the idea of men making reservations for her services quite tickled her funny bone.

  Studly skirt-chaser! No wonder Ellie had turned him down if that was his reputation. But he smiled at Ada; he didn't want to insult her. Not twice in one night. After all, he liked her chicken dinners.

  "Miss Ada, I was riding all day. Everything down there," he lowered his gaze to his lap and back up again, "is right sore. Another time, maybe." When hell freezes over. "But sit down a spell and talk to me, and I'll buy you a drink."

  Ada laughed heartily, not bothered that her nipples appeared and disappeared as she did. "You don't need to buy me a drink in my own saloon." But she slapped the bar anyway and soon a glass of whiskey was sliding her way along the polished oak.

  "I'll tell you about Dan. First, we all thought he was sweet on Anna at the mercantile, but then she got engaged. Then, when that Malloy girl came to town, she went out with Dan once, but it turned out she was in love with Riley." She shrugged. "But he was taken."

  Ada paused to adjust her corset, which only served to expose more of her bosom. "Of course, you already know that. Eliza and Riley were engaged a long time, the whole time you were away. Next thing you know, Miss hoity-toity Prentice gave him the boot."

  Thaddeus winced at both the term and the topic, feeling disloyal and wishing Ada would finish telling him about Dan.

  Ada downed her drink and let the bartender pour her another one. "I think Eliza caught wind of Riley liking that Malloy girl. He brought her in here once. Pretty thing with dark hair."

  Thaddeus didn't want to talk about Eliza's past. "I'm aware of all that, Miss Ada. I went to Riley and Sophie's wedding."

  "I didn't get an invitation," she complained.