“You should see it,” Miss Susan had whispered. “It’s beautiful enough for a king or a queen. It’s got a Turkish carpet on the floor and all the furniture is carved so pretty, and there’s even a big mirror over the bureau. If I could entertain in there, I would make a whole lot more money.”
Since Eliza had spoken to Miss Susan outside the saloon that sunny day, most of the good women of Haley would no longer speak to her. She was as sick and tired of small-town rectitude as she was of trying to run her little ranch. Daniel just plain had to buy her place, he just had to, or she’d be stuck here for the rest of her life. She shook her head hard, willing any other thoughts about him away.
She tiptoed up the stairs as quickly as she could, determinedly ignoring the voices in her head telling her that not a single soul in town would ever speak to her as long as she lived if they knew she’d been sneaking around the hotel at night. The voices added that Daniel might shut the door in her face, that he might think she was mad. Or maybe he was asleep already and would be annoyed at being disturbed.
She knocked gently on the door marked six. After a nerve-racking minute it opened, and Daniel stood there, his shirt open, staring at her.
“We, um, we forgot something,” she said, trying to avoid looking at his pale, chiseled chest. Did he have to look so appetizing? It made it hard to think straight.
He continued staring a few more seconds, and then he said, “We forgot?”
“Yes.” This was very awkward. Why was he staring at her as though she were a ghost?
After a few moments of hesitation he stepped aside, motioning her to enter. “What am I thinking, leaving you to stand in the hall? Forgive me. Come in.”
She nodded and entered. For a moment she was distracted from her intention. The room was indeed elaborately furnished with purple velvet curtains, a scarlet oriental carpet on the floor and carved furniture. An oil lamp glowed dimly on one table.
Daniel motioned her to a chair and she sat down, while he stood beside the chair opposite hers.
“Would you care for some brandy?” She saw there was a bottle on the table and one glass. If he had been drinking, he’d been doing so alone. She sniffed, not a hint of perfume in the air. Not that it was any of her business. She shouldn’t give a hoot what he did or with whom. The fact was she did. She cared, desperately.
“No, thank you,” she said. He nodded slightly and stood, arms folded, studying her. She could not imagine what he was thinking, but being this close to him was distracting.
“I came.” She cleared her throat a little. She was nervous but didn’t want it to show in her voice. “I came because I thought you might want to buy my property and I, um, well, I’d like to sell it real soon.”
“I see.” Did he sound disappointed? Had he been hoping she would say something else? There was a disconcerting pause. “Very well, I’ll buy it. Send me the papers and the price.”
“Oh.” Now she didn’t know what to say. Her stomach grumbled. “You left without supper,” she blurted out.
He took a step back and his face looked stricken. “I wasn’t thinking. How could I be so rude? Please forgive me. I’m sure you provided a fine feast.” He sounded truly upset.
“Well,” she said, wanting to console him. “It wasn’t all that fine. And it got burned to a crisp. It was a…um…a memorable visit anyway.”
He didn’t say anything, but raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
“The…” Her face grew hot. “The, um, the things we did…very enjoyable.”
Yes,” he said gravely. She thought he looked a little puzzled. “You mean the return of your cattle?”
“What? No. I mean what we did after that. All those things we did…” He looked alarmed. For a moment she wondered if he expected her to think it all perfectly ordinary.
“Some things were new to me,” she said shyly.
“I hope they brought you as much pleasure as they did me.” He was frowning. Didn’t he like to talk of such things?
She nodded. “But last night, well, there is one thing I don’t understand.” She rubbed her neck and thought he winced. “You pierced my skin, you drank my blood, but how could you do it without tearing—”
“You remember!” he interrupted, his voice low. “You remember everything. But how can that be?” He sat heavily on the chair and ran his fingers though his hair, his gaze never leaving hers.
She tilted her head, trying to understand. “Why would I not? It was very, um, novel, at least to me, and thus easy to remember.” Why was he so agitated?
“I willed—I compelled you to forget. I allow no one to remember when I have taken blood.”
He looked at her and his eyes gleamed like ice. Had she been standing she would have taken a step back. She pushed herself against the back of her chair. It was the same look he’d given her before he left a few hours ago. And now that she thought about it, he’d done it the previous night after he’d given her that kiss right before he’d climbed into the wagon and headed back to town.
He shook his head. “Now I can see that you cannot be compelled to forget. This is most strange—you are very unusual. I have heard that there are mortals whose memories could not be controlled, but I thought that was just a myth. I just tried again to make you forget that…”
“That you drank my blood?” He nodded and pursed his lips.
“I willed you to forget all that we have done but especially that.”
“Everything did go a little hazy for a few seconds,” she said, “but I still remember. You did it the first time we, er…”
“Made love,” he said and added, “Miss Eliza Dunbro, you are a most remarkable woman.”
She shrugged, not really understanding but relaxing just a little.
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his chin on his hands. “Do you know what a vampire is?”
She shook her head.
“Vampires are immortal beings who were once human and now need to drink the blood of humans. They are creatures of the night and have some small powers over most mortals—but not yourself, apparently. Normal people hate them and kill them when they can.” He paused and stroked his chin. “At least that is the case in Europe, perhaps there are none here.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. You are one of them…a vampire?”
He nodded, his face solemn.
“And you like to drink blood?”
“It is a need as well as a desire.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Oh?”
“Well, that explains it then.”
“You take this so calmly.”
“And the other stuff?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The kissing and stuff down here.” She looked down at herself and pointed below her belly, feeling the heat of embarrassment in her face. “Is that something only vampires do?”
Daniel smiled, shaking his head. “Darling Eliza, that is human behavior. But vampires enjoy it also.”
“Well, that’s good then.” Relieved, she smiled at him and leaned forward, clasping her hands on her knees. “I sure did like that.”
He seemed a little taken aback and then he laughed and, taking her hands in his, he said, “I too. And earlier this evening, for the first time since I became a creature of the night, I did not feed, although I could easily have done so. I did not even think of it. Perhaps some of my humanity remains.” His gaze grew darker. “And perhaps not, for I wish to feed now.”
Her hand went to her throat again. The flames of desire lapped at her belly. She found herself wanting nothing but the man or vampire or whatever he was. She wanted him to make love to her, and she wanted him to drink from her again.
But there was one other thing she wanted just as badly.
“I am most awfully hungry,” she said shamelessly. “For food.”
He laughed heartily. “Mrs. Timmons has sworn she will cook for me any time I would like a meal. Day or night.” He strode to the corner and pulled a
thick red cord. Eliza thought she could hear a bell tinkling somewhere beneath her. “I have tipped the man at the desk very well. He will fetch her.”
“I’d better hide before she gets here. I don’t want anyone…”
He put his finger to her lips. “Don’t worry, my darling. I shall make sure she doesn’t remember seeing you. Remember, it’s easy with mortals—excluding yourself. Now, that gown of yours does button very high. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable if we opened it enough to reveal your lovely neck.” He undid the top three buttons. “But what happened to you? There is mud and—”
“Never mind,” she said. “I’ll tell you later.” Much later. “In the meantime I would be even more comfortable if it were not so tight across my chest.” She undid the next three. By the time Mrs. Timmons arrived to inquire as to what was needed, the gown was unbuttoned to its hem.
When she returned several hours later with a fine chicken dinner, Eliza and Daniel, both carnally sated, were more than ready to eat.
Epilogue
Miss Susan smiled broadly as she watched Mr. Hastings lift Miss Eliza onto the seat of the buggy as though she weighed nothing at all. She waved her lace handkerchief as they headed off to the railhead where they’d catch a rattler to Kansas City. They sure did make a handsome couple. She sighed and dabbed at her eyes. She’d miss the only woman in town who’d been friendly to her. She watched until they were so far away she couldn’t make them out.
Then she turned and surveyed the house. Two men were hammering away at the new roof. Seth was setting the hitching post back up. Mr. Hastings had arranged all that and paid for it too. He told her he and Miss Eliza wanted everything in good shape for her, Miss Susan, when she began her new life in her own house. She shook her head. She still couldn’t believe it. Her own place. And twenty-six head of cattle.
Her daddy had been a small rancher before he lost it all to drink, so she knew all about ranching around here. Now she could put that knowledge to work. As for her old profession, she could pick and choose her customers if she wanted any at all. She smiled at Seth who happened to be looking her way as he so often did. Maybe she would just get married and be respectable.
About Juliet Chastain
Way back in sixth grade, Juliet Chastain wrote a tragic tale of two kittens, and ever since that day she's had a yen to tell stories. During her years as a fashion photographer, she satisfied that yen by creating eye-opening picture stories with great-looking models and beautiful clothes. Now that she's put down her camera, she indulges herself by writing short, steamy romances with models—er, hunky heroes—every one of them ready to fulfill his lady’s deepest desires.
Juliet welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Vampire Cowboy
ISBN 9781419943645
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Vampire Cowboy Copyright © 2013 Juliet Chastain
Edited by Elizabeth London
Cover design and photography by Syneca
Model: John
Electronic book publication June 2013
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Epilogue
Vampire Cowboy Page 5
