He thought on that a while. It might help her to remember to see the goings on at the tables. "Yes, you can come. It would make me happy to see you there."
Her smile melted his heart.
"Our not sleeping together bothers you, doesn't it?" He put some distance between them.
"A little yes. It makes me wonder if there is something I should remember. Like us not getting along or fighting or something terrible. But when I look at you, I feel something. And I'm sure of one thing. I trust you, beyond anyone else I know."
That nearly done him in, for her to face the rejection, and yet trust him? And he was the one man that knew how precious her trust was given. God, he wasn't going to be able to hold out at this rate. Why did he have to reject her?
He knew why. They weren't married. To take her when she did trust so much…
Now he knew more than ever he couldn't touch her. When she realized the truth, she'd be shocked and never forgive him for taking the liberty. No, it was best to keep his distance, but why had he suddenly found that so hard?
Chapter Twenty
That night at the tables, Trish went downstairs wearing a pink dress he picked out for her. He loved the dress on her, it brought out her beautiful coloring and the highlights in her hair. She put it up on top her head, and he'd never seen it look so nice. Beautiful curls hung against her neck. She could remember how to do her hair, but she couldn't remember him nor the bargain between them.
When she sat down beside him, some of the men smiled and bowed their head to her. She smiled and sat beside Gil, offering her hand to him.
For a moment he thought she remember something, but the moment passed.
Most of the men were drinking, all but Gil.
~*~
Gil reintroduced her ,and she watched quietly. Gil had prompted her on how to act, the touch of her hand on his, the eye contact, and he wanted her to smile. She did happily. It was heaven to be with people again, people that didn't know about what happened.
A lot of them had been there several hours already Trish noted by the excess glasses still on the table, but when Gil joined them, they seemed to perk up. Excitement keyed the air, and the table was full.
Trish glanced at them all, from Gilmore the bank president to Clancy the ship captain who retired long ago, to Muncie the hotel owner, but Trish didn't recognized anyone. One man stood out among them, he was a big and jolly man, who smiled all the time. She liked him instantly.
She glanced at Gil. He looked relaxed and at home at the tables. He must love gambling.
They played many games, and she watched with interest. The man on her left bid the highest, and lost the most. The man next to him won a few, but it was Gil who won most of them, and she noted how no one seemed angry about losing to him. Did he command that much respect, or did it just come natural? Either way, she admired her husband.
She also knew how attracted to him she was. He was the most handsome man at the tables, and she could barely take her eyes from him.
The confident way he played the game, honest, and trustworthy personified the man he was.
The smell of cigars perfumed the air, along with a certain brand of brandy. Trish felt comfortable sitting beside Gil. He was such a good poker player his face never mirrored his hand.. The other two would gave a good hand away with their expressions.
When the others began to go home, she bid them farewell, "I enjoyed watching all of you play." She remarked.
Some of the men looked at her strangely. She wondered what she had said wrong.
~*~
Gil played longer than usual, dreading the thought of going to bed without her and yet knowing it had to be this way. Knowing he had no right to expect anything more of her.
When most all the players retired, he gathered his winnings, took her hand, and led her up the stairs.
She paused part way up.
"Trish, are you all right?" His face mirrored his concern.
She shook herself. "Oh… yes. I remember going up these stairs. I could see myself going up them. Isn't that strange?"
"Not really, honey, you have done that many times." He smiled at her.
"Have I?" Her face mirrored her joy at remembering something.
"You were very quiet at the tables, but then you have always been rather quiet. Do you remember meeting any of the gentlemen?"
She paused for a moment, as though his words brought more back. "Yes…I think I do. Mr. Corbin… yes, I remembered him. He always smiles and seems so happy, but I cannot remember what he does for a living. He doesn't smoke and drinks very little. He's by far the most pleasant, except for you at the tables. But I do not remember any of the others. I'm glad they sort of introduced themselves. I'd hate to have to admit I didn't remember their names."
"That's okay. You should feel good that you can remember little things. Before long, you will be back to your old self."
"Do they know…. about what happened to me?"
Gil glanced at her. "I'm afraid most of them do. Things like this get talked about by townspeople."
"I suppose so." Trish frowned at herself. "But they were all very nice to me."
"Of course they were. I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled at her.
"I wish I knew more about us." She noticed he stared at her strangely. "I mean our relationship. I feel like a missing piece of the puzzle." She glanced at him. "We don't act like a married couple in private. Has it always been that way?"
"Like what?"
"I feel as if I was a witch, mean, and ugly to you and your friends. Did I talk at the tables? Did I interfere with your games? I must have done something wrong. There must be something you don't like about me. I wish you'd just tell me."
"Why on earth do you think that?" he asked as he turned the key in the door.
"You can use the excuse that the doctor doesn't want us to sleep together all you want, but I think differently. I think I must have been a she-wolf or something." She shrugged. "You're just too polite to tell me you don't love me like that."
He stood erect. He let her go inside first. Once they were inside the room, he pulled her chin around and stared into her misting eyes. "You have always been a perfect lady with me. Now and then. You are a beautiful person, never doubt that."
"Maybe I was too perfect." She turned her head in question.
"Trish!"
Before she could say another word, he took her into his arms and kissed her hard and warmly. His mouth ravaged hers. His tongue shot out to capture hers and waltzed slowly until he was lost with her. She was no meek lover in his arms. Her arms flew around his neck and pulled him closer. She encouraged his kisses. He wanted the heaven to go on forever, but he knew he couldn't allow it. Pushing away roughly, he realized he was making love to her. How was he going to keep his distance and kiss her like that?
His heart pounded, his head pounded, and he ached to have her.
She twirled around and faced him once more.
Her cheeks were flaming, but her desire-ridden eyes hid nothing.
"Trish…" He grabbed her hands and kept her at a distance. "Please understand. I want you as much as you seem to want me, but let's wait a while. I want you to be very sure before we…"
Her smiled turned to disappointment.
"I knew it! I wasn't a good wife, was I?" She shook her head and moved away.
"It's not the right time, Trish. I can't explain it right now. We both need some time, but never doubt my feelings for you Trish."
"You don't have to say a thing. I can see it in your eyes just now. You were embarrassed by my brazenness. I'm sorry. I presumed too much. It won't happen again."
"N-no! It's not that. There are things you don't understand." He approached her. "Things that are too complicated to explain. The doctor wants you to get your memory back slowly and naturally. Not because I tell you everything. And after the shock you've been through, I agree."
"I'm sorry. I'll do as you ask from now on," she said meekly.
Gil stared at her, torn between taking her to the bed that was only a few feet away and letting her think they didn't get along. He turned away, so she wouldn't see how ready he was for her.
"I need a drink. I'll be back." He flew out the door, slamming it behind him. What could he say, how could he explain?
He had to think. Had to figure a way of telling her something and yet not telling her.
What was he going to do? He was madly in love with her and he couldn't tell her. He wasn't sure he could tell her under ordinary circumstances, much less these. He wanted to sleep with her every night, but if he did, he'd lose her in the long run. She trusted him right now. If he betrayed that trust, he'd lose her and he knew it. He had won the lady, but he couldn't have her, for she wasn't his to keep.
Now he knew what torture was.
He went downstairs. He knew his answers didn't lie in a bottle.
The clerk waved at him. "I'm so glad she is better, Mr. Davis. She looked ravishing tonight."
"So am I, and thanks for caring." Gil smiled.
He pressed on to the bar. Although he wasn't normally a drinking man, he had to do something to get his mind off the woman he couldn't have.
Gil twirled the drink in his hand around several times. He looked at the color of the whiskey. He smelled it. He could almost feel how warm it would feel swallowing it. Then he set it aside.
The bartender looked at him. "Something wrong with the whiskey, Mr. Davis?"
"No, it's fine, Hal. I'm just not sure I am."
Nodding, Hal cleaned some shot glasses and nodded. "I've never seen you drink, Mr. Davis."
"I don't usually."
"Your lady… she's been through a lot, from what I hear. It must be hard to deal with," Hal said, not bothering to look at him.
"She can't remember anything." Gil muttered almost to himself.
Hal did look now. His gaze scrutinized him. "You mean what happened to her?"
"I mean all of it, Hal."
Hal put the shot glass on the bar and poured himself a drink. "You don't say."
Gil glanced at Hal. "You married?"
"Naw, I never did marry. Got caught up once, with a little filly. I sure did want her, but found out she was after my money. I let her go." He had a faraway look in his dark brooding eyes. "Sometimes I think I made a mistake. As you get older you realize that money ain't that important."
Gil shook his head. "Women can sure tangle your heart up."
Hal glanced at him again. "You got one of the prettiest gals I've ever seen, Mr. Davis. You are lucky."
"Am I?"
"Don't you love her?"
Gil studied the whiskey again. "Love her? Hal, I'm so crazy about her and yet…I just don't know how to tell her and make her believe it. But, since this happened… I can't even have relations with her. And I certainly want to."
Hal's mouth hung open. "You don't say."
Gil nodded. "I do say."
He saw the expression on Hal's face and knew he'd overloaded his own mouth, but whiskey tended to do that to a man.
"With a woman like that it would be hard not to," Hal reflected.
"Yeah, but suppose I did, and then she got her memory back."
"Didn't you have a good relation before?"
"Yeah, sure we did."
"Well, I ain't no doc, but it seems like a pretty woman like that would feel better if you did."
Gil shrugged, then looked at Hal. "Sure, but for how long? You see, she trusts me. That's the problem. She trusts me to take care of her. And I want to take care of her. We have a very special relationship."
Hal glanced around the bar. Only one old drunk, half asleep, sat in the corner. "Then take care of her."
Gil glanced up, considering his words of wisdom. "Maybe I will have this drink."
"Sure, get your courage up, man, and go to her," Hal encouraged.
"Thanks, Hal, you've been a real help." Gil nodded as he swallowed the whiskey. "Maybe I'll have another."
"Sure." Sam poured him another drink, and they talked for a long while.
It'd been a while since he'd had a conversation so stimulating with another man and he appreciated the advice. Hal might not have been married, but he'd seen a lot of life and Gil instantly respected his opinion.
As Gil was about to go back upstairs, he looked seriously at Hal. "Don't go spreadin' rumors, Hal, or I might have to shoot you."
Hal blinked hard then laughed. "No, sir, Mr. Davis. A bartender learns to keep his mouth shut fast, or he don't live too long."
As Gil walked inside the room, he found her curled up on the settee asleep. The matter had taken care of itself.
Or had it?
Chapter Twenty-One
The next morning, Gil entered their room to see Trish there with a large tray. He blinked with surprise. "What's this?"
"I made us some breakfast." She took the covers off the food and waited for his approval.
"You cooked this yourself?" He tasted the crispy bacon.
"Yes, I went downstairs and asked if I could cook us some breakfast. After a long discussion, the cook finally agreed to let me. How else will you ever know that I can cook?"
He sat down at their small little table in the room. "This is tasty. I love breakfast like this. You even made gravy and biscuits."
Smiling, he helped himself to the food. He uncovered another platter where fresh tomatoes onions, and melons were sliced.
"I'm impressed." He winked at her.
Trish sat beside him, and he offered her a bite of his buttered biscuit. She took it into her mouth slowly. The way she did that was enticing. A little butter dripped from her lips, and he dabbed it with a napkin. The action was erotic in nature, and he felt stirred beyond belief. How could a woman seduce a man with food?
"Good, at least I can please you in the kitchen," she said, looking away from him.
He pulled her chin around and stared into her troubled eyes. "You please me very much. Make no mistake about it, Trish. I do want you."
Her mouth opened, and for some reason, he couldn't stand it any longer. He bent the slight distance to touch his lips to hers. He tasted butter from her lips, and the kiss seemed to grow. He stood and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed. But the moment he laid her down and saw the raw longing in her eyes, he groaned and turned away.
"Will it always be this way between us?" she whispered.
"When you fully recovered. When you are sure you want me as much as I want you, then no. It won't always be like this." His voice grew husky, his eyes devoured her.
"What is there to remember?" she asked innocently. "That can change this…"
"If only I could say," he whispered softly.
"Is there something in our past that's holding us back?" she asked, desperately seeking answers.
"Someday, we'll talk about it. But, Trish I won't take the advantage of you like this even though I want to. I wanted you so badly last night I almost didn't come back up to our room. I was afraid I'd act on those wants."
Trish turned her head into the pillow and cried.
Gil got up and paced the room.
Better to let her cry than take an advantage that could cause him to lose her forever.
For days, it went on, her asking questions, him not able to answer them. Frustration grew between them. Tension stretched like a tightrope between them.
~*~
One day, she was looking in her closet and spotted the green dress. Flashes of that evening came at her. She grabbed her head and closed her eyes. She could see it. She'd bought the dress here, in this town. She remembered joining Gil at the tables that night. And then she went to her room early. She couldn’t remember why.
But when Eb's face flashed before her, she knew. She screamed.
Gil rushed into the room as she almost fell against the settee.
"Trish, honey, what's wrong?" He grabbed her to him.
"That man… that man, Eb… he… oh, God, oh, My God… Gil. N
o wonder you don't want me. He raped me, didn't he?"
"Yes, but that's not the reason that I wouldn't touch you. You cannot believe that."
He took her to the bed, laid her down, and left for only a moment. She propped herself on a pillow when he returned with some water.
Gil frowned. "You remember?"
"Bits and pieces, yes. I remember clawing him, and trying to bite him, and slapping at him. I remember trying not to scream so Margaret… oh dear, Margaret, is she all right?"
"Yes, she is fine and so are the kids." Gil said.
"Not all of them…" She glanced at him now as a tear ran down her cheek. "He shot and killed the oldest girl… Then Margaret's husband came in and tried to stop him. Eb killed him too. I remember it, Gil, I remember."
Her mind was working, and her eyes were going all around the room.
She looked at him and touched his cheek with her fingers. "But there is more?" She searched his face. "Can you tell me? Please, what else is there?"
He studied the floor long and hard. Then his gaze met hers. "Do you remember the name Chester Smith?"
"Chest… Chester Smith… oh…" Her eyes clouded with tears. "Oh my God, I’m Chester Smith's wife… aren't I?"
"Yes…"
"And you won me in a poker game… didn't you?"
"Yes, I did."
Her mouth hung open for a moment. "My God, I'm married to another man. Then you and I… we aren't…"
She saw the way he hung his head. Now it began to make sense. But the shock of it coming back like this had its effect on her. She was shaking, her knees would barely hold her up. My God…she'd almost begged him to take her, and now…this. She was married to Chester Smith. Her hand fell on her chest and she slowly sank to the edge of the bed. Holding her head as though that might do some good. It was too much to take in. Gil had been right from keeping it from her, and not taking her to his bed. She felt embarrassed at how she had carried on about it. All sorts of feelings washed over her, making her tremble from all the unknowns yet to come. Her eyes rounded on him. "Is there more?"
Winning the Lady (Book 4 of the Red River Valley Brides) Page 14
