Claudia Dain

by A Kiss To Die For

  "Stay, Dammit," she said, squeezing out of the door with Bill, forcing the dog to stay inside.

  "I wish that dog had a different name. It doesn't seem right for you ladies to be cussing all day long because of a dog," Bill said once they were outside.

  "Uncle Roy named him and Aunt Sarah won't change it. Miss Daphne doesn't like it much either."

  "I wouldn't think so," Bill said.

  Dammit whined on the other side of the door and scratched at the wood. They moved across the porch to stand on the steps. Another scratch. Anne just smiled and shrugged, hoping Bill wouldn't pursue it; there was nothing she could do about the name of Sarah's dog and she didn't want to be asked to try.

  "How did the trip go?" she asked, changing the subject. Dammit whined and sniffed the crack between the door and the jamb. "Will you be able to stay in Abilene for a while?"

  "It went well," he said. "They're going to run a line connecting Junction City and Council Grove, Emporia, Burlington, all the way to Denison on the Red River. Land prices might as much as double. Good opportunities there."

  "So you'll be leaving again?"

  "I'll be around for a while." He smiled charmingly. Everything he did was charming. It didn't seem as attractive as it once had, say, a week ago, before that outlaw had tumbled at her feet. "I make a good living, Anne."

  "I'm sure you do," she said. She could feel her mother's eyes on her back through the lace curtain fabric. She smiled. Bill smiled in return. Surely her mama could see his smile from where she stood.

  "But I want you to know," he said, pressing her hand. His hands were nice, long fingered, the nails pared, his skin cool. A bit sweaty. "We'll talk more about my prospects tonight, when I come for you. Seven, remember?"

  "Yes, I remember."

  "We'll eat at the Demorest, a big dinner. Eat light today so you'll enjoy it."

  "I think we're having cold chicken for lunch," she said.

  "That sounds perfect." He kissed the back of her hand, a gallant gesture, and backed down the steps, holding on to her hand until their arms were extended fully. He reluctantly let go of her hand. It was very romantic, almost conspicuously so. "And, Anne?"

  "Yes?"

  "Wear the blue dress. I can't take my eyes off you when you wear blue."

  She was wearing ivory.

  "Of course. The blue dress."

  As soon as he left, her mama joined her on the porch. Dammit had been closed off in the kitchen.

  "From his look, I'd say he'll ask you to marry him tonight."

  "I really haven't known him for very long, have I?"

  "I'd say long enough for him to know what he wants," Nell said, looking sideways at her daughter. Anne wrapped an arm around the porch post and leaned into it. "It's what you wanted."

  "I know," Anne said softly, lying to her mama, hating it and doing it anyway. It was better than the fight that would come if she admitted that she didn't want to marry Bill or anyone else.

  "He's a fine-looking man with good prospects," Nell said. "He'll give you children." A child was the best a man could give. It was what they did best. It just wasn't enough; not for her. Her life was going to be bigger than that.

  "Was that how you felt about Papa? A fine-looking man with good prospects who would give you a child?"

  "It doesn't matter how I felt, but I got my child. I got you, Anne." Nell said it softly, gently, her eyes full of sudden tears. "What would my life be without you?"

  Anne gave her mother a quick hug, heavy with guilt, and then wrapped herself around the porch post once more. "It's just that I... I hardly know him." Better to ease her ma away from the certainty of a wedding this week; she didn't want to break her heart.

  "You don't know anyone until after you're married anyway," her mother said, rubbing quick hands across her eyes.

  It was a frightening thought, to marry a stranger, no matter how long you had known him, and find out years later if you had joined yourself to a friend or a foe. But she knew how it would turn out if she married. That's why she wasn't ever going to marry. But she couldn't tell her mama that, not when it was all Nell lived for.

  "If you say no, you'll lose him. He's got too much pride to ask twice," Nell said.

  And then she would be alone again, living in a house of women, all related by blood. The days empty and the nights eternal. No bumpy rides.

  Anne blushed and tucked her face into her arms. He was the problem, the bounty hunter. Thinking about a man like that, feeling what he made her feel just by looking at her, was what got a gal in trouble every time. She wasn't going to get in trouble. She wasn't going to let a man worm his way into her life, rotting it from the inside out. She was going to be smart. She was going to use a man before he could use her, and she was going to stay free. Even if her nights were long and smooth and endless.

  "Anne?"

  Anne lifted her head and looked into her mother's careworn blue eyes. They all had blue eyes, with the exception of Miss Daphne, who had the blackest brown.

  "It's all right, Mama," she said. No need saying all she was thinking; it wouldn't do any good and would just cause a lot of trouble. "I need to press the blue if I'm going to wear it tonight."

  Nell smiled and kissed her daughter on the temple. "I'll do it. You sit and enjoy the day. The Topeka train is due soon. I'll see you at lunch."

  Anne watched her mother go in and then looked back out onto the quiet street, still clinging to the porch post. She hung on to it as if it were the only solid thing for a hundred miles, which was exactly how she felt. Bill hadn't been all that much to manage; he was gone more than he was here, but suddenly he wanted to talk weddings. Why now?

  She knew the answer and wanted to kick herself for her stupidity; Jack Skull, in town for just shy of a week, hadn't shown her anything but the most modest interest, and that just this morning on the platform. Up until then, he'd been almost rude; he'd certainly been eager enough to avoid her at every opportunity. She'd given him lots of opportunity. The way he'd all but run from her at the hotel had been humiliating, especially after she'd tumbled against him. Of course, today he'd been different, standing so close to her and being downright impolite. That's what had set the spur to Bill. He was defending his claim against another man. It was what a man would do. She'd wanted Jack to run Bill off and she'd accomplished the opposite. How to fix it? How to make a man leave his claim?

  That was easy. Bring in more guns. Jack Skull was bristling with guns. All she had to do was get Jack to dig in and court her and Bill, if he was sensible, would run. Bill was very sensible.

  It shouldn't be a problem. Jack had at least noticed her today, talked with her, stood next to her. It was a good start. She wouldn't be much of a woman if she couldn't get more out of him than that. It wouldn't be too hard.

  She liked the look of him, the sound of his voice, the way his chest had felt pressed against her own for that brief instant on the stair, hard and flat and hot. She'd wanted to press herself against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, nestling her head under his chin, safe. It was fool thoughts of that sort that got a woman in trouble. Safe, indeed.

  Jack was on the steps before she saw him coming, probably because her head was buried in her arms, burrowed in thought. He was beautiful; he was everything a man should be, hard and lean and rough. She wanted to wrap herself around him like a rope; she tightened her grip on the post, hanging on against the impossible urge.

  "Ma'am." He tipped his hat brim.

  "Hello." She smiled and then bit her lip.

  "I've come to apologize for being so forward on the platform today. We haven't been introduced, not formally."

  It was a good thing she was hanging on or she would have fallen over like a leaf in the wind. Never on earth would she have imagined that Jack Skull would apologize to anyone for anything he did. And certainly not for ignoring social niceties.

  "It's all right. I mean, I didn't mind." Now she sounded forward and completely shameless. "I know who you are
." That was better, give him an explanation as to why she hadn't minded that he started talking to her without an introduction. It wasn't a completely honest explanation, but it left her reputation a little cleaner.

  "Is that a good thing?"

  She wasn't sure how he meant that until she saw the glint in his eye. He was teasing her. Jack Skull was teasing her. Surely that was a good sign. Hadn't Sarah always told her that boys tease girls when they like them? But that was years ago; did men tease women?

  "I don't think you need to worry."

  "If you say I don't, then I won't."

  He seemed to want her to continue, to say something light and fun and teasing in response, but she couldn't think of anything. She'd never had a conversation with a man that had felt anything like this. Bill never teased her. She never even teased the dog.

  They stood awkwardly for a few minutes. Somehow, she'd trampled the conversation he had started and neither one of them knew how to pick it up again. Out of the corner of her eye, Anne could see the curtains twitch; it was either Mama or Miss Daphne and neither one made her feel one bit more comfortable.

  "Well, that's all I came to say," Jack said, backing down the step into the dirt.

  The train whistle sounded and Jack looked into her eyes with sudden eagerness, putting words in her mouth she would never have had the courage to say on her own.

  "Would you like to accompany me to the train? It's coming from Topeka and should be—"

  "Sure, Miss Ross, I'll escort you." He offered his arm subtly. She ignored the offer. The curtains twitched again as they turned away from the house. Jack tipped his hat... at the curtains. So, he had known they were being watched; she only hoped he understood that had been the reason she wouldn't take his arm. It must have been Mama who had been watching; Miss Daphne wouldn't have let her leave the porch with a bounty hunter.

  They walked slowly, his steps shortened to match hers, dust rising with every step they took. It had been a dry, cool spring. Miss Daphne's flowers weren't going to do well unless they got more heat and more rain. Anything that put her grandmother in a foul mood was to be avoided, even contrary weather. Thinking of the weather and her grandmother were fine topics if she wanted to forget that Jack Skull was walking at her side. Fine topics, except that they weren't working. Every breath was forced; her ribs seemed to press down against her lungs, her heart to beat sideways. He did things to her that didn't need doing.

  "Why do you watch the trains?" he asked as they walked. She looked askance at him. He wasn't looking at her, his eyes were skimming the boardwalk, the storefronts, the flat distance of the prairie, never still, searching. He wasn't even looking at her, but her heart thumped sloppily. She was just shameful. They were intruded upon by Jim Conner, which was a delight; that kept her from having to answer Jack's question about why she met the trains.

  "Good day, Anne," Jim Conner said.

  "Good day, Jim."

  "Meeting the train from Topeka? Well, you'd better get on, it's been in for a full two minutes now and it's not a long stop."

  It was awful, the way Jim ignored Jack. Though Jack didn't seem to mind; he ignored Jim just as completely.

  "We'll make it," she said cheerfully, including Jack.

  Jim didn't say another word.

  "That was Jim Conner, from the stockyard," she explained to Jack.

  "Seems everyone knows of your interest in trains," he said. "Or is it that you're expecting somebody?"

  For a stranger, he was striking too close to the mark. No one around here had ever stopped to think about why she met the trains. It was a common enough pastime. She'd used to come with Sue Ann until her friend married and moved out of town. That she kept up the practice on her own wasn't cause for comment. She wasn't going to flatly refuse to answer; she was going to divert him with a question of her own, staring just on the edge of polite protocol.

  "We were all surprised when you decided to stay in Abilene; bounty hunters don't usually stay long."

  "You know a lot of bounty hunters?" This time he looked at her. Those blue, blue eyes were trained right on her. She stumbled on a rock in the road. He made a move to steady her and then stopped, letting his hand drop.

  "Of course not."

  "Of course not," he repeated softly.

  Had she insulted him? Did he want her to admit to knowing a passel of bounty hunters? Which, naturally, she didn't. She'd never wanted to get anywhere near a bounty hunter until she'd seen Jack come off that train like a bull out of the pen, hard with muscle and with the spark of a fight in his eye. She'd never seen a man like him. He was absolutely nothing like Bill.

  Which was the problem. She could take a full breath with Bill.

  "I was so sorry about the girl—Mary I think her name was? What happened?"

  They were at the station and Jack took her elbow and helped her up the few steps to the platform. She didn't need the help, she could have skipped those steps in the dark. His mouth tightened and he looked at John Campbell, the stationmaster, who looked right back. John had a special, disapproving look for Anne; she blushed and smiled weakly. There was no doubt now that Miss Daphne would know about her special escort to the station. Her stomach muscles clenched in anticipation as she kept her smile in place for John and Jack and all the world to see, but she felt sick inside at the scolding she knew waited for her back home.

  Jack led her down to the far end of the platform and stood between her and John Campbell, shielding her from the stationmaster's eyes, breaking eye contact between them. She looked up at Jack and saw that he was staring down at her. Their eyes held for just a few moments and she saw that he knew, knew the state of her fear and saw the dread that was hanging on to her skirts. He knew and he was trying to protect her from it in any way he could, without actually killing someone. And just when she would have hung her head in shame at being so sick with fear, he winked and looked away, his eyes searching the featureless prairie.

  He winked. The moment was gone. Her tension thrust away from her by his simple, discerning act. How had he known it was just what she needed? It didn't bear thinking on. She needed him to manage Bill for her, that was all. Winking wasn't going to have any place in that. She'd make sure of that.

  "Where did you find her?" she asked.

  His eyes narrowed and he took a shallow breath that she could hear, even on the windy platform.

  "I haven't been to Abilene in a few years. Don't remember your friend Bill being here then. How long has he been here?" he asked, ignoring her question.

  "A few months."

  "What's he do?"

  "He's a land developer."

  "You mean a speculator."

  Jack obviously did not want to talk about the murdered girl. She did not want to talk about Bill. She had no idea how to get Jack to stop talking about Bill. Talking about Bill made her feel underhanded. Standing here with Jack, she wanted to forget all about Bill. Seven o'clock was hours away.

  "You been seeing him long?"

  Anne just stared at his second button. It was made of horn and the thread was black. Maybe if she looked away, Jack would stop asking her these questions.

  She turned to face the station. Facing John Campbell was better than talking about Bill with Jack.

  "He must travel some with his work. You get to see him often?"

  "I see him enough," she said mildly.

  "It must be hard on a man, having to be gone so much from the girl he's courting. He is courting you, isn't he?"

  She didn't know what to say to that. If she answered truthfully, Jack might walk right off this platform since she would be declaring herself another man's girl; her invitation for him to accompany her didn't cast her in too soft a light, either. But she couldn't lie; he could ask anyone and hear the truth. In fact, he wouldn't have to ask; there were plenty of folks who'd shout it out to him as he passed.

  "Why don't you just tell me to mind my own business?" he said, his voice soft and gentle. Amused.

  She tu
rned to face him, her fingers clutched together. Again, he seemed to know what she was feeling. No one had ever tried to see into her thoughts the way he did. She felt naked in front of him, exposed and vulnerable. That wasn't good.

  "That would be very rude," she said.

  "So what?" He grinned. He had the most engaging smile. Those laugh lines hadn't lied.

  "I just couldn't do that," she said, trying not to fuss with the strings of her reticule.

  "Why not?" He took a step nearer. She snapped one of her strings.

  "I've been taught—"

  "I've talked to your aunt; it ain't that," he said on a chuckle.

  He'd talked to Sarah? About what? Knowing Sarah, remembering the focus of their most recent conversations, she blushed to think.

  He was laughing at her and she didn't know why. She had no idea what to do about it. Bill never laughed at her. Bill rarely laughed with her. Bill didn't laugh much at all. It was just possible that she didn't either. There hadn't been much to laugh about in her life. She had absolutely no idea what to say to him, especially since he was standing so close. Because he was standing so close. He'd shaved recently; there was a small slice of a cut near his left ear. Why was it even that looked wonderful on him?

  "Miss Ross, you need to speak up for yourself or any fool man will take up with you."

  She didn't have anything to say to that. It wasn't true. No one wanted her to speak up for herself. No man had ever tried to take up with her. Until now. And she didn't mind it a bit.

  What was wrong with her? She knew what lay at the end of this trail and she wasn't going there. She lived in a houseful of women who'd followed that trail and she'd learned better. There was nothing there, nothing but the emptiness of a man's name.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "But you don't need to worry about me. No man has ever tried... I mean, there has never been anyone who... it's just that I..."