by Debra Cowan
“I didn’t realize I was lost at first,” she explained in a strained voice as if trying not to lose patience. She glanced at the watch on her bodice.
How long had she been driving around out here? Had she been going in circles? Besides his friends’ ranches, there was a pair of small farms in between where she could’ve asked for help.
“Glad you’re okay.” His gaze lingered on her finely sculpted profile, silvered by the moonlight. “Miz Jones will be happy to hear it, too.”
His attention drifted to the full curve of her breasts, the small jet buttons on her pale blue bodice winking in the shadowy light. Tension wound through him and he tightened his grip on the reins.
“I’m sorry I worried Naomi.”
“You’re not sorry you worried me?”
She arched a brow. “Were you worried?”
“Yes,” he admitted with some surprise. “Especially after what happened at the hotel the other morning. I told you before it’s not a good idea to travel alone.”
“I didn’t intend to be gone so long,” she said tightly.
Which was nowhere close to an acknowledgment of his warning. What if someone had come upon her? Her mouth alone could have a man thinking about trying all sorts of things with her. Impatient with his thoughts, Russ tried to shove them away.
He’d felt this kind of mind-addlin’ attraction before, but this time he knew better than to let it get hold of him.
Lydia shifted, the left side of her body molded to the right side of his. She cupped a protective hand over her right upper arm.
“Sorry about the bumps. I know all the jouncin’ must make your arm hurt.”
“It’s a little sore.” She moved her hands back to her lap, her movement sending a fresh whiff of lavender mixed with the night air over him. “Why were you looking for me this afternoon?”
“I needed to talk to you about the hotel.”
“All right.” She waited expectantly, clasping her elegant, glove-clad hands.
“I’ve had a telegram from someone who’s planning to buy my part of The Fontaine.”
“What?” Her head snapped toward him. “You’re planning to sell?”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
Russ thumbed back his hat, trying to keep his attention on the conversation and not the soft feel of the woman beside him. Or the inviting smoothness of her pale skin. “My pa originally owned this share.”
“I remember.”
“He needed money to begin a cattle-breeding operation, so I bought it from him. But when he needed more bulls, he had to borrow against the ranch.”
“And the loan is coming due?”
“Yeah. We probably could’ve repaid it with profits from selling the new hybrid stock, but we’ve been hit by rustlers so even if we sold every head for top dollar, we wouldn’t get enough money.”
“How many cattle have been taken?”
“More than a hundred. Several of those are prize bulls and some already breeding cows. My brother and some of our neighbors are trying to catch the rustlers, but so far, they haven’t had any luck.”
Lydia nodded. They rode in silence for a moment, the only sounds the whisper of grass against the buggy wheels and the distant howl of a coyote.
“So you posted a notice about the hotel in some newspapers and someone responded?”
“Yes. A Mr. Theodore Julius of Chicago. He’s planning to come to Whirlwind in the next few days.”
She hesitated then, “Will he move here? Live at the hotel?”
“You mean, will he stay out of your way and let you run things how you want?”
“I didn’t ask that.”
Russ had been teasing her, but the haughtiness of her reply set something off inside him. Maybe it was the frustration of needing some space from her or maybe it was his guilt over Pa that had him speaking sharply. “If you’re so all-fired set against having a partner, why buy the interest in the hotel to start with?”
“I’m not set against having a partner.”
“As long as they stay out of your way.”
For a moment, she stared, then lifting her chin, she said in a cool, flat voice, “Yes, as long as they stay out of my way.”
Russ wanted to grab her and shake her. Or kiss her. Do something to rattle that aloofness. After a few seconds of gripping the reins so tightly the leather burned his palms, he beat down the impulse and focused on getting to town.
The slight nip in the fall air carried the scent of wood smoke from someone’s stove. He kept his attention on driving, working hard to dismiss the way Lydia’s body rubbed and bounced against his every time they hit a rock or a rough patch of ground.
He was irritated as all get-out. Partly because he wondered what her creamy skin would feel like under his hands, his mouth. And partly because he wanted to know everything going on in her head. He wasn’t sure which was more confoundin’.
Russ didn’t want to be interested in Lydia Kent’s mind. He wasn’t going to figure her out. He didn’t even want to try. No matter how much she intrigued him.
In the short time it took to reach The Fontaine, Lydia’s arm was throbbing. Even worse, her nerves were vibrating. Partly from Russ catching her in a lie, but mostly from his being so close.
The buggy wasn’t built for such a giant of a man and she was practically sitting in his lap! The man made her twitchy, restless. The one hand she was able to clamp on the seat didn’t keep her from sliding against him as they drove.
Despite the dull ache in her upper arm, she could barely keep from looking at him. The night growth of his beard gave him a dangerous air, and he smelled of leather and a faint spice. When the moonlight slanted across them, Lydia caught a glimpse of dark hair in the open vee of his shirt.
“Whoa,” Russ said, pulling back on the reins.
Against her arm, Lydia felt his muscles strain as he slowed the buggy at the hotel’s back door. The coiled strength in his massive body had her heart thumping hard. Her skin went cold, then hot.
“I’ll get this rig back to the livery.” His words slid over her in a low rumble.
“Thank you.” Somehow she managed to keep her voice steady, but when he offered his hand to help her out, her pulse scrambled. Unsettled, she hurried inside and up the staircase.
Garner Kent had included Lydia in his business dealings since the time she was old enough to sit quietly and she had never been uncomfortable around men. Russ Baldwin made her uncomfortable every which way. Especially physically and not because his size was intimidating. It was the whole of him. The hard planes of his body that made a woman want to test his strength. The wicked blue of eyes that were sultry one minute, sharp the next. His mouth—
No. She refused to dwell on it.
She reached her rooms, switched off the gaslight in the hall and went inside. The night air was cool, but Lydia was warm. She could still feel the muscular line of his thigh against her leg, the heat of his palm through her glove. Her reaction to him was unfamiliar and quite disconcerting.
“Lydia?” Naomi rushed over from the velvet-draped window where she’d been standing, her footsteps muffled against the area’s large rug.
Lydia reached out and squeezed the other woman’s hand. “I’m all right.”
“I was so afraid something had happened to you. Are you upset that I sent Mr. Baldwin to find you?” Naomi’s brown eyes were troubled. “I was worried. We don’t know the area and after the shootings—”
“It’s fine. You did the right thing.” In truth, Lydia wished her friend hadn’t sent Russ, but she wasn’t about to criticize. Naomi had lived with too much fear, and if Russ Baldwin helped relieve some of it, Lydia was glad. Even though the man put her on edge.
Her pulse finally steadied. Removing her hat, she walked to the walnut wardrobe along the wall which separated the sitting room from the bedrooms. She opened one of the double doors and hung her hat on a peg inside.
“How’s your arm?”
“I
don’t think I tore any of the stitches, but it needs to be looked at.”
“Your bandage needs to be changed anyway.”
Closing the door with an elbow, Lydia reached back and undid her braid, threading her fingers through the strands until the heavy mass fell around her shoulders. The tension of her long afternoon began to ease.
The burning pewter gaslights illuminated the office and sitting room done in soothing colors of blue and cream. Touches of cobalt accented the large blue-and-cream rug.
“What happened?” Naomi’s voice quivered. “Did something go wrong?”
Lydia knew how terrifying her prolonged absence must’ve been for her friend. Both of them knew all too well the danger that could befall them. Naomi was trying to remain calm, but Lydia sensed her upset.
“Except for having to stay so long at the second stop, everything went smoothly.” She gave a reassuring smile as she unpinned Isabel’s watch, laying it on the small marble table next to the wall. “The first stop was a ranch and the woman there, Emma Ross, was more than helpful. The second stop was a farm. That’s the one where I had to wait. The family had guests so they couldn’t talk to me until the people were otherwise occupied.”
“Since your folks are the ones who told us about the stops, I wasn’t worried about you being safe while you were there. It was the getting there and getting back. Did you get everything settled?”
“Yes.” Lydia eased down into one of the sapphire velvet chairs she’d arranged in a corner and bent to unbutton her black everyday boots. “For now, the signal will stay the same. When weather permits, the quilt is to be left outside if it’s safe to approach the house. During bad weather, the quilt hangs in the front window.”
Naomi knelt to pick up the shoes, but Lydia waved her off. “No, Naomi. I’ll put those away.”
The other woman rose. “Where did Mr. Baldwin find you?”
“About two miles outside of town.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I’d gotten lost, but I don’t know if he believed me. My horse picked up a stone and was limping, so that might’ve helped the story.”
“Do you think he suspects anything?” Naomi curled one hand over the back of the other chair.
Lydia stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes in her stockings, glad to be rid of her shoes. “I don’t know, but we may not have to worry about that much longer.”
“Why?” Moving carefully because of her bruised ribs, Naomi eased down into the chair beside Lydia’s.
Knowing her friend’s nerves had yet to calm, Lydia rested her head back against the chair, letting her muscles relax. Trying to get images of Russ out of her mind. “He’s selling his share of the hotel.”
The other woman’s eyes widened. Lydia related what Russ had told her. “He’s already received a response from someone who wants to buy. I plan to find out if the new partner intends to move to Whirlwind and stay here at The Fontaine.”
“That must’ve been why he came looking for you after lunch.”
“Yes, that’s what he said.”
“So, what about the telegram you received this morning?”
“That was from Daddy, about Philip.”
At the mention of Lydia’s brother-in-law, fear pinched Naomi’s beautiful features. “And?”
“Daddy says the situation is grave, but he’s still alive.”
The other woman jerked to her feet, flattening a hand over her stomach. “He’ll come after us! What if he finds us?”
“Shh.” Lydia rose and took both of Naomi’s hands in hers. “He won’t find us. He probably won’t survive. But if he does, if he tries to hurt us, we’ll defend ourselves. Just as you did in the stables that night.”
Tears streamed down her friend’s face and Lydia hugged her, fighting not to cry herself.
As she did every time she remembered Naomi fighting off Philip, Lydia wished her sister had been able to do the same. But she hadn’t. Isabel had already been weak and battered when her husband shoved her down the stairs. She died of her injuries.
People in Jackson knew how Philip DeBoard treated his wife, but most turned a blind eye. The DeBoards were an old family, wealthy and influential, so nothing had happened to the son of a bitch. He’d killed Lydia’s sister, almost killed her sister’s maid.
She couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. Her arms tightened around Naomi, sending a jolt of pain up her arm. Lydia knew the other woman was reliving the same disturbing memories as she.
Months after Isabel’s death, Naomi had finally agreed to leave the DeBoard plantation. Lydia had come, prepared to take her back to the Kent home outside of Jackson, and found her brother-in-law attacking the woman, kicking her in the head and torso. Lydia had drawn her derringer, but before she could shoot, Naomi had plunged a pitchfork into the man.
For horrible seconds, there had been only the sound of Philip’s low keening moan, then he’d choked out that he would kill them both. Lydia had grabbed Naomi’s hand and taken off. Once they’d arrived at home, Lydia had told Daddy and Mama what had happened. They agreed she should leave at once for the hotel in Texas and take Naomi with her. So they had, arriving in Whirlwind two weeks earlier than Lydia had been expected.
Since then, Garner and Kathleen Kent had kept them well informed about Philip’s condition. Infection had set in and DeBoard was hovering near death. After what he’d done, Lydia would feel just fine if he died. Lord knew, he wouldn’t be arrested if he recovered, seeing as his cousin was the sheriff in Jackson.
She hugged her friend tight, her voice thick. “He won’t find us, Naomi. We’ll do whatever we have to so that he can’t hurt you ever again.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt, either.” The other woman drew back, wiping at her eyes.
“We’re going to be fine. We are.” Lydia fished in the pocket of her blue skirt for a handkerchief. Pushing the white linen into Naomi’s hand, she opened the wardrobe and took another from one of five small drawers, drying her own tears. “How are your ribs?”
“A little better.” Naomi smiled tremulously.
Lydia knew they probably still hurt dreadfully.
“Let me look at your arm.”
Lydia unbuttoned her bodice to the waist and started to slip her arm out.
A knock sounded on the door, startling them both. She shared a look with her friend, hurriedly fastening her dress. As she walked to the door, she tried to smooth away signs of her tears.
She opened it to find Russ Baldwin and her chest tightened. Had he heard them crying? Lydia knew her eyes were probably red. If he noticed, she hoped he thought they were that way from fatigue.
His gaze slid down, down her body to her black stockinged feet then slowly climbed back up and lingered on her breasts. She glanced down and saw she’d missed a button. Skin heating, she fumbled it through the hole. His hot blue eyes had sensation swirling in her stomach and she curled her toes into the floor, hiding them beneath her skirts.
Holding his hat, he rubbed his nape. Fatigue lined his features and his blue eyes were bloodshot.
“Just wanted to let you know the mare will be fine.”
“I’m glad.”
He nodded. “Everything else okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He looked past her. “Miz Jones?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Baldwin.” Naomi’s voice was steady. “Thank you for finding Lydia.”
“You’re welcome.” His gaze returned to Lydia, lingering on the fall of her hair before doing one more slow pass down her body.
Her skin tingled and she struggled to remember her manners. “Thank you for all your help tonight.”
“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said in a flinty voice, his features hardening. “After what happened to those people in the lobby, I’d think you would be more concerned about wandering off on your own.”
Lydia opened her mouth to tell him she was concerned and she hadn’t been “wandering” anywhere, but she caugh
t herself. Biting back her retort, she murmured, “Perhaps you’re right—”
“Things could’ve turned out a lot differently. It might be good to stay close to town for a while.”
He was chastising her! That was quite enough.
Her eyes narrowed and she nodded sharply. “Good night, Mr. Baldwin.”
“Miz Kent.” He settled his hat on his head and walked away.
Irritated, Lydia closed the door, barely able to hear the hard tap of his boots above the pounding of her heart. Ooh, the man vexed her! When he looked at her with those piercing blue eyes, she felt completely undone.
As if he could see through her. Into her.
She didn’t know what made her more nervous. That he might notice too much about the operation. Or about her.
Chapter Four
A sleep or awake, Russ couldn’t get Lydia out of his head. Since the night he’d found her on the prairie, he’d been taunted by the memory of her thick raven hair sliding around her shoulders and that one undone button right between her breasts. Those images triggered more images. He dreamed about her, about that silky hair on his bare skin, about feeling her bare skin against his. He even thought he could smell her soft lavender scent.
He woke up hard and hurting. He didn’t even remember the last time that had happened, and he sure didn’t like it happening with Lydia Kent. It was time for that trip to Abilene he’d had to put off with her early arrival. He could work this heavy, hammering want out of his system with Willow or Sally. Or both.
It wasn’t only the tempting thought of getting his hands on Lydia that made it impossible to get her out of his mind. It was also because when he had gone to her rooms that night she looked as though she’d been crying. Naomi had looked the same way.
Why? Did it have anything to do with Lydia’s being lost? And why had his business partner gone out by herself, especially after the shooting in their lobby? The woman was confoundin’.
He tried to see her only about hotel business, hoping that would dim the vivid pictures in his head, but it didn’t. Russ was plenty ready to sell his share in the hotel even though he wasn’t leaving The Fontaine until he figured out what Miz Kent was up to.
