Echoes of the Heart

by Webb, Carole

  “Since you didn’t eat your meal this afternoon, I supposed you might like to give the hotel another try. Besides it is the only place to eat this time of night, unless you want beans at the saloon”

  Raeden chuckled. “The hotel sounds perfect.” Her eyes roamed over the taut muscles of his long legs outlined through the snug trousers and she forced herself to look away.

  An autumn moon, an ethereal globe reflected evening stars, cast soft shadows. The cool air brushed past her cheeks. “The sky seems so endless out here. It is beautiful country.”

  Gazing at her, his face relaxed, his dark eyes seemed softer in the glow of the moon’s rays. “Most people feel the same way once they have been here awhile. As a youngster I ran with the Cheyenne and covered a lot of territory which seems infinite as well.”

  The picture of Cash running half-naked with Natives gave her another facet of the intricate man sitting at her side. Why on earth would he want to spend time with a bunch of savages?

  Her eyes opened wide and she shifted in her seat to look into the dark eyes holding her gaze. “You just ran off with a bunch of Indians? What did your parents have to say?”

  Cash let out a laugh. “Not much actually, once they realized it would do no good. I didn’t exactly allow myself to be easily reared.”

  “Why does it not surprise me?”

  The saloon roared with activity and he took notice when they drove past toward the hotel.

  With a hand resting on the small of her back he escorted her inside, the warmth of his touch radiating through the fabric of her dress.

  He ordered steak dinners and a bottle of wine. Her appetite hearty from the day’s adventure, she made no objection to the abundant quantity of food.

  She barely made a dent in the huge slab of meat on her plate. The conversation during dinner remained casual. She spoke of her fledgling enterprise when he inquired, showing genuine interest as she relayed her plans to dress all the ladies in town with the latest fashions.

  He mentioned the following morning he would come by for supplies to deliver to the Cheyenne camped in the hills. She did not ask why he would aid their futile existence, believing them better off under the care of the government.

  After the plates were removed from the table, they finished the wine and discussed the fast growing town. Placed as their guardian, he considered the people’s safety of utmost importance and she found his protective nature appealing.

  When he announced they should leave, she wanted to stay longer and get to know him better, if he would allow. She found everything about him intriguing—his life with the Indians, his family and his position as marshal. Perhaps her interest went beyond the physical attraction she knew they both felt.

  On the trip back, his manner shifted so abruptly from the man at dinner, laughing and conversing. At the house, she placed her hands on his wide shoulders, their eyes met and locked when he grasped her waist firmly to lower her from the transport. She found his strong possessive hold around her waist alarming as they walked toward the door and thought of what might happen if she let him take advantage of the vulnerability that overcame her once before.

  She eased from his arm, lowered eyes to avoid his stare, thanked him then turned to enter the house. His arm flashed across her, a thud on the doorframe an iron bar blocking her entrance while dark narrowed eyes penetrated her own.

  “How about one of those kisses you seem to like so well?”

  His sarcastic arrogance made his motives clear. Raeden’s spine stiffened and blood rushed to her face. All of his false manners during the evening had been designed only to pull her into his lair. A steel grip snapped to her wrist halting an attempt to slap him. He pushed her back to the wall pressing his hardened loins against her while his mouth covered her lips with a hunger, making her knees weak.

  After a moment’s struggle, her mouth opened to receive his demand and her arms moved to encircle his neck. At this point, his motives did not matter as she succumbed to the urgent desire welling inside her core.

  His back turned rigid and he abruptly pulled away, a haughty crooked grin on his face. “That’s more like it.” He sauntered to the wagon. “I would come in and finish this conversation however, it’s late and I have to get back to town.”

  He glanced back. His cocky expression made her feel foolish. Head held high she entered the house angry with herself for the vulnerability she had displayed so openly. She would have to stay out of his clutches in the future if she wanted to retain any dignity. All these sensations and new feelings would be her downfall if she did not avoid him. She must muster her defenses and keep him at bay.

  ***

  The smile dissolved from Cash’s face when he drove away from Raeden, but he managed to maintain control. His loins ached changing into a demand, directing him toward the saloon when he reached town, the need of his body obvious when he entered the bar. Quickly scanning the room he found nothing suspicious but the absence of Angie tempered his urge.

  He approached the bar and questioned the barkeep. “Where is Angie, with a customer?”

  “No, she needed the night off. She’s not feeling well.”

  “Sorry to hear she’s ill. Give her my best when you see her. By the way, have you seen those strangers that arrived a few days ago?”

  “They left town this morning, so I hear.” The bartender set a glass of whiskey down in front of Cash.

  He nursed his drink, feeling relief the group had gone and sorry for Angie since she didn’t feel well, but disappointed just the same.

  Cash knew another sleepless night faced him when he entered his dark room. Lying in bed he let his mind wander and to his surprise past visions stayed dormant, replaced with haunting green eyes, soft chestnut tresses and a warm body yielding under his touch. The unfamiliar feeling of loneliness crept over him.

  Fifteen

  Dressed for the day, Cash went to the office for coffee, Raeden the only hunger he felt. He needed to get her out of his mind but it did not happen. His weakness made him angry, a chink in his armor causing a vulnerability he could never allow.

  His desk piled with papers and dodgers, he sat down to rifle through checking for announcements possibly describing the three men. Something in their eyes and manner gave him a feeling of discomfort he had learned from experience not to ignore.

  Finding nothing, he studied the wanted posters carefully stamping the impressions indelibly on the back of his mind. With the task finished, he put his boots on the desk edge crossed at the ankles, rolled the chair back on rear legs, folded his hands over his chest then shut his eyes.

  Brain still active, he thought of Dull Knife his former in-law, running through a list of supplies they would need. Since hunting buffalo left the Indians vulnerable to capture, they would need plenty of food and warm blankets. Slim had already taken them cattle, the rest available at the mercantile.

  Perhaps political involvement offered the answer to aid their cause but he felt the position of governor would not have much impact on the federals in charge of decisions regarding the Natives. He did not like feeling powerless. There had to be something he could do about their situation. Putting the thoughts aside until later, he left to purchase their goods.

  A voice in the back of his mind told him Raeden would be nothing but trouble if he continued contact. He seemed drawn like a magnet and his thoughts became muddled. When she came near him, he wanted to bed her and the urge became more difficult with each meeting. He would just have to try harder.

  ***

  Heavy boots on the wood planks pre-announced his entrance and breathed in her aroma when he entered the storefront, even though vacant of her presence. Then he scanned her workspace and found her there, leaning over her machine sewing pieces of fabric cut into forms. He marveled at her precision with the machine. She was so engrossed in her labor, she did not even notice he had arrived and stood directly behind her.

  His eyes poured over the gentle curve of her neck, along her back to
the small waist to settle on the striking chestnut hair falling in waves around her shoulders and down her back. He curbed the urge to pull her into his arms and take what he wanted—no needed.

  He assumed she sensed his presence when she rose to face him, her stern cat- like green eyes glaring. “Are you here to buy the supplies you mentioned last night? I’m sure Mike or Diane will be pleased to assist you.”

  Her irritation apparent, he laughed to himself. After all, she had not put up too much resistance to his advances. “I have a list of things here. Tell Mike I will be by in the morning.” His mind told him to run but his eyes betrayed him. They scanned the length of her lithe figure leading to a swelling in the lower part of his anatomy. His jeans became tight. No way would he stand there and endure this torture. He spun around and went for the door.

  “Good day, Marshal.” Raeden’s face fell with disappointment while her heart sank to her feet. Why am I attracted to such a ruffian? How dare he turn his back on her and leave as if she had cooties. She had wanted at least to have the chance to tell him what she thought of his attempts to deceive her into thinking him more than the creature he appeared on the surface while intending only to use her for his own amusement. She had heard of men like him, the cads and rakes preying on innocent women.

  Standing at the door watching his back, he did a sudden about face and in an instant she found herself absorbed by his arms. He bent down to possess her mouth, demanding and hot.

  Against her own will she opened her mouth to receive his kiss, yearning for his hands to explore her body, to bring back the sensations she had felt at his touch once before. When she almost collapsed, he pulled away leaving her breathless and standing on wobbly knees. Why do I want him even though I am a target? He will only take his pleasure and cast me aside. His actions spoke of a nature to take what he wanted with no regard. She watched him leave.

  To distract her thoughts she grasped the dress brought from her wardrobe for exhibition and placed it in the window on the dress form with shoes and a handbag on a small table nearby.

  She went outside to view through the window, pleased with the display. When a few children passed by, Raeden hurried inside to grab some candy. She enjoyed their antics playing stickball in the street until a customer entered to purchase hardware then returned to the walkway to stand in the sunshine for a few moments before resuming her recent project.

  Feeling hungry when Mike relieved her, she made the decision to dine at the hotel. When walking past the jail, a thought emerged—maybe he would join her. What am I thinking? Her feelings clouded her judgment. It was all best forgotten. She needed to pull herself together. He considered nothing but to taunt and take liberties.

  Raeden walked past the jailhouse. The door opened suddenly and a strong hand grabbed her wrist. She stumbled inside and stood temporarily paralyzed. He kicked the door closed behind her and scanned her length, enfolding her in his hard muscled arms. Cash’s lips bent to kiss her as his hands moved down her back pulling her against his hard lean body, crushing her breasts against his chest.

  His lips left her branded. “I see you can’t stay away from me, and just in case I don’t see you later, I thought I would get my good-bye kiss now.”

  He dropped his grasp and she struggled free. Anger from his taunting flared inside. “Can’t stay away from you? It seems I am being stalked by a madman.” Shoving him aside, she ran from the room into the dusty street. His laugh echoed in her ears while she scurried back to the shop, lifting her skirts with both hands to avoid stumbling over the hem of her dress in her haste to return.

  ***

  Raeden stood idly cutting a pattern, her mind not engaged in her task while she thought of Cash and her body’s perfidious conduct whenever he kissed her. On one hand, she wanted to have more control yet when he touched her, cravings brought out a desire to let him do anything he would like. She wanted to feel his burning kisses all over her naked skin.

  She shook her head to clear her mind of such lurid thoughts then resumed her task half-heartedly, angry at her lack of self-discipline. She swore to stay away from him in the future, her dream being more important than a wild fling with a conceited rogue.

  Sixteen

  Cash strode toward the livery disgusted with his lack of restraint concerning Raeden. No one had ever disturbed him the way she did. Why could he not leave her alone? He detested his lack of self-control and the reality he wanted her.

  He decided to leave at first light just to get away sooner. A few days without the temptation should cure him and allow the detachment he felt for women to take hold, giving him some measure of peace.

  Arguing voices rang from the saloon as he walked past. The hairs on his neck rose. When he entered, two men argued at the card table. A man in his thirties dressed in dusty clothes with dark air and blood shot eyes, stood fists curled ready to fight. Cash’s muscles relaxed only slightly when he breathed deep. “Hey boys, is there a problem here?” He moved slowly to keep the mood calm.

  “This bastard’s cheating.” Noticeably intoxicated, the man swayed on his feet. Cash neared the man with caution watching his eyes. “You’re the marshal. Arrest him!”

  Cash placed a hand on his shoulder steering him toward the exit. “I’ll tell you what, buddy.” He casually slipped the man’s gun from his holster. “I’ll just take this until you sober up. Why don’t I take you to the hotel? You can sleep for a while then we can talk. Looks like you have had a little too much whiskey. What’s your name, pal?”

  “Harry. You know Marshal, I do feel tired. I’ll go get the room like you said.” He staggered toward the hotel, Cash watched from the sidewalk while he stumbled toward the hotel figuring he would go sleep it off.

  ***

  Cash drove a wagon to the rear of the store, stomped dust from his boots and entered through the back door. Approaching Diane, he found himself searching for a glimpse of Raeden, relieved he would soon be away from the temptation to seek her out and take her directly to his bed. “Hi, Diane, thought I would come by now. I will be leaving earlier than I planned.”

  “Everything is ready, Cash. Mike will help you load.” He turned to face Raeden when she entered the room.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Newell.” His fingertips moved to the front of his hat in a polite gesture. No words spoken, she turned and left the room closing the door behind her.

  Nearing the saloon with his heavily loaded wagon, the sound of gunshots filled the air. He willed his heart rate to slow as he leapt from the seat. He ran all out to the source of the noise, his Colt revolver in hand.

  At his approach, the man called Harry stumbled through the swinging door almost falling, randomly shooting into the street. Where in the hell did he get the weapon? “Put the gun down now. Don’t make me shoot you.” The crazy bastard will probably shoot himself.

  “This place is crooked.” When Harry’s gun turned toward Cash, without hesitation he fired, shooting the man in the leg. Harry fell to the ground grabbing his thigh and screaming in pain. Cash darted forward and kicked the gun from his reach just as John sprinted to his side.

  “Go check inside. See if anyone is hurt.”

  Watching Harry’s blood gush from the wound, he yelled. “Someone get the doctor.” Sliding his weapon back in the holster, he removed the neckerchief from his throat, tying it tightly above the hole in Harry’s blood-soaked leg.

  A gasp sounded behind him. His gun cleared leather with lightning fast speed as he leaped from the ground spinning to face the threat. In less than a heartbeat, he found himself aiming point-blank at Raeden’s gaunt face, etched deeply with a look of panic mixed with revulsion. Jesus Christ!

  He turned immediately back to the man lying in the street. He would never allow her to drive him to distraction in the midst of danger. “Get out of here, now!” Dammit, whatever possessed her to come out here in the middle of a gunfight?

  Seventeen

  That night in bed, Cash replayed the scene in the street again an
d again. He had considered his work a necessary safeguard but she made him feel like a hired assassin. Well, what did it matter? Raised in a civilized city, she would never understand. Only trouble came from getting too close to women. Since the death of his wife, they only wanted to tie him down, so he preferred women like Angie who did not desire commitment. He knew his heart had hardened into a stone wall, allowing no one to enter or to let himself feel but he did not care.

  Why hadn’t she gotten married? Had she drawn others with her coquettish and alluring body? Her fiancé must have found her in the arms of another, called off the nuptials and embarrassed, her family sent her away.

  Was she setting a trap by letting him use her? Why else would she give in so easily whenever they embraced? He would stick with Angie and the other women he visited from time to time while traveling the state. Let her lure someone else into her snare. Yet somehow, the picture of her in the arms of another man made his blood boil.

  His sleepless night seemed endless as he stared at the ceiling attempting a few hours sleep, thinking as usual of his lost family and then of Raeden. He had a tall glass of whiskey from the bottle he kept nearby and finally fell into a fitful doze.

  He rose before daybreak then pushed through the office door looking for coffee to find John still asleep. John clad in his long johns, shot up instantly reaching for his pistol when Cash barged through. “Jesus Cash, do you want to get killed?”

  Cash shrugged and made a pot of coffee while John got dressed. They drank and Cash questioned John. “Any news on Harry?”

  “Doc says he will make it, but will limp for awhile.”

  “I’ll leave it up to you if you want to arrest him. Maybe a week or so in jail will teach him a lesson. He didn’t hurt anyone and I think basically he is harmless, just another cowboy with too much whiskey under his belt.” He grabbed a box of ammunition from the drawer under the gun case. “I didn’t find anything on those new guys we saw in town but keep your eyes open. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”