Wild Dream

by Duncan, Alice

  “Oh, get out of here, Fermin. You’re being ridiculous.”

  Addie flapped a napkin at him, and Fermin backed up. Since it was dark and he wasn’t looking, one of his long feet hit a clump of low scrub. He flailed his arms wildly to keep his balance, to no avail. As he fell over backwards, his finger tightened on the trigger.

  Charley, who’d had experience with Fermin Small before, lunged for Addie. She shrieked as they tumbled over. Charley twisted so that it was he, landing on his wounded arm, who took the brunt of her minimal weight as they crashed to the floor of the porch.

  A loud report issued from Fermin’s gun, followed almost simultaneously by the sound of shattering glass as the bullet struck the front window. Ivy, coming outside with the gingerbread at that very moment, screamed and dropped the pan. Lester, shocked at being shot at and scared for Ivy, dashed over and grabbed her.

  “Son of a gun.” Charley’s bad arm throbbed like fire. His other arm held Addie’s body fast to his.

  “Oh, Charley,” Addie breathed. “Are you hurt? Oh, my land, Charley.”

  She sounded frantic and Charley, afraid for her delicate sensibilities, pried his eyes open. He kept his teeth clenched for fear he’d wail and disgrace himself if he didn’t. He felt her warm little hands press his cheeks and saw her eyes widen with terror. For him.

  Son of a gun. She was worried about him. He tried and failed to recollect the last time anyone had worried about him.

  “Oh, Charley! Oh, my goodness gracious. Speak to me!”

  “I’m all right, Miss Adelaide,” he managed to squeeze out between gritted teeth. So what if he lied? He didn’t want her to worry any more. He felt quite noble, in fact.

  Charley had just begun to appreciate the feel of her soft body squashed against his when Addie struggled to her feet. He felt a rush of disappointment when she wriggled away from him. Grabbing his bad arm with his good hand, he sat up and watched her storm to the edge of the porch, grip the railing and lean over.

  “Fermin Small, you addle-pated idiot! You shot your gun off and broke our window! You could have killed one of us, you crazy fool!”

  Charley’s eyes opened wide. He’d never heard Adelaide Blewitt in a real, honest-to-goodness temper fit before. She was a force to be reckoned with. She snatched up one of the julep glasses and hurled it off the porch. He guessed her aim was pretty fair for once, because he heard a soft thunk and a bellow of pain from the ground beneath the porch.

  When Addie began to climb the railing, presumably to leap on her fallen adversary and beat him to a pulp, Charley scrambled to his feet.

  “I’m going to kill you, Fermin Small. I’m going to kill you so you can’t hurt innocent people anymore! You’re a menace to the decent folks hereabouts!”

  Charley grabbed her around the waist. “It’s all right, Addie.” Shoot. She had a voice that could fell trees when she was riled.

  And she was riled for sure. She squirmed like a tiger in his grasp. If his arm hadn’t hurt so much, he might have appreciated the feel of her writhing against him. As it was, he didn’t appreciate it at all.

  “It’s not either all right, Charley! That maniac tried to kill us!”

  Fermin’s whimper crept to their ears like a dog with its tail between its legs. “I didn’t try to kill nobody.” If Charley were not already out of charity with the sheriff, he might have felt sorry for him.

  “Well, you almost did anyway, you imbecile!”

  “Shhhh, Addie.”

  By this time, Ivy had joined them at the porch railing. She, too, looked mad as thunder. “I’ll get the broom, Addie,” she shrieked. “We’ll get that varmint.”

  Lester’s attempts at constraining Ivy were even more ineffectual than Charley’s efforts at controlling Addie. Charley at least held on to his charge. Ivy slid from Lester’s grasp and galloped into the house.

  “Oh, Lord. Better go after her, Lester.”

  Charley at last managed to pin Addie’s arms to her sides. Lester was less fortunate. When Ivy hurtled back out the front door, her broom held aloft, he had to jump back to avoid being leveled.

  “Let me at him, Charley,” Addie roared. “Let me at him!”

  Since she inadvertently connected with his shin just then, Charley didn’t answer; he only continued to hold her tight and grit his teeth. Fortunately, Addie’s feet were unshod as usual, so his shin stopped hurting after a second or two. Shaking his head and fighting for control of Addie, he decided there wasn’t much he could do about Ivy except enjoy the show when she began to whale away at Fermin Small with her broom.

  “Ow!” Fermin clamped his long, freckled fingers over his hat and danced away from Ivy. “Stop it, Miss Ivy! I didn’t mean nothin’!”

  Fermin’s gun, Charley noted with relief, had fallen out of his hand and lay, useless, on the ground. He glanced to his right to discover Lester leaning over the porch railing, watching.

  “Better go fetch her, Lester. I can’t let Miss Adelaide go.”

  “You’d better let me go, Charley Wilde! I’m gonna kill that Fermin Small!”

  “Now, don’t go getting provoked at me, Miss Adelaide,” Charley advised uselessly. “It’s not my fault your sheriff’s a dimwit.”

  “It’s your fault I can’t kill him!”

  Lester, observing Ivy and Fermin from the safe haven of the porch, mumbled, “Reckon I’ll fetch the gun, Charley.”

  Charley guessed maybe Lester had a good idea there. He didn’t trust either of the Blewitt females within reach of a loaded firearm in their present state of agitation.

  “I’ll try’n get her, too,” Lester offered, referring to Ivy. His voice conveyed little hope, but he tramped down the porch steps doggedly, willing as ever to do his duty.

  Charley heard him say, “Don’t hit me, Ivy,” and was impressed. Lester wasn’t generally so succinct in extraordinary situations.

  He was even more impressed when, over the squirming bundle of femininity in his arms, he beheld Ivy Blewitt stop beating Fermin Small. Her broom poised to strike, Ivy’s head whipped around at the first touch of Lester’s hand on her arm. Ivy saw Lester, her lips curved into a glad smile, and she lowered her broom.

  “Well . . . I reckon I don’t have to hit him anymore.” She turned to glower down at the sheriff, who had fallen again. Fermin took the opportunity to scrabble, crab-like, away from her. “But you’d better bring us a new window in the morning, Fermin Small.” She eyed the gun in Lester’s hand. “Maybe I’ll give your gun back then.”

  “I’ll bring a new winder, Miss Ivy,” Fermin promised. He rose shakily to his feet.

  Meanwhile, Addie’s struggles seemed to wane. Charley heard her panting and hoped she’d desist soon, as his arm felt about as bad as it had the night he’d been shot.

  When she suddenly turned in his embrace, threw her arms around him, and cried, “Oh, Charley, I was so scared!” he did the only thing a gentleman under such circumstances could possibly do. He wrapped her up, drew her close, and covered her lips with his.

  Chapter 8

  If Addie harbored any faint, lingering doubts about Charley Wilde being her Prince Charming, his kiss vanquished them. She subsided into his embrace as if she were a weary traveler and he haven from a storm. Mercy sakes, he felt good to her.

  She’d thrown her arms around his neck in fear, but his wonderful lips sent her fear flying right out of her head. Soon her restless fingers began to explore. She heard him groan when she tangled them in his thick hair. Then, when she stroked the rippling muscles of his back, she felt him inhale sharply. She wished she could feel his skin. She’d admired his chest and back for the past several mornings when he’d shucked his shirt to let her bandage his arm. Now she wanted to find out what his strong muscles felt like, to rub her hands over his flesh.

  She wished they were both naked so she could feel those springy chest hairs of his against her breasts. She guessed her wish might seem improper to a few stuffy folks who didn’t realize she and Charley were made
for one another. Why, if she and Charley were to fall into bed right now, they’d merely be fulfilling their mutual destiny.

  His arousal pressed against her thigh, and Addie rubbed against it eagerly. He groaned again.

  “Oh, Charley.”

  When it looked as though an attack of nobility was going to make him withdraw from her, Addie gripped him tightly and hooked her foot around his ankle so he couldn’t escape. “No, Charley, don’t stop.”

  He grunted as though he were in pain and Addie, believing his arm to be hurting, took pity on him. Reluctantly, she unhooked her foot and stepped back. She couldn’t release him entirely for fear of falling flat on her back since her legs had turned to rubber. Odd how his kisses had that effect on her.

  “Oh, Charley.” She peered up at him and was alarmed to see an expression of anguish cross his face. “Oh, Charley, did I hurt you?”

  He shook his head stiffly. Then he nodded, even more stiffly. Addie felt very confused until she realized Charley was such a gentleman, he’d hesitate to accuse a female of doing anything so unladylike as to hurt an already wounded man. Immediately, she became contrite.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, rubbing his poor arm delicately.

  Charley uttered a smothered noise. When he opened his eyes, he looked almost desperate. “Ivy and Lester,” rasped out from between his clenched teeth.

  Addie blinked up at him uncomprehendingly for a second until she realized he must be concerned about the propriety of them kissing in front of her aunt. Why, if that wasn’t the sweetest thing, and just like him, gentlemanly fellow that he was. She smiled and turned toward the yard. When she saw her aunt Ivy, Lester Frogg and Fermin Small all staring, dumbfounded, at the two of them, she allowed as to how Charley might have a point.

  Since she could stand on her own now without fear of falling over, she let him go and took a step or two away from him. He seemed to wilt slightly and she heard him exhale a long breath.

  Patting her hair into place, as it had begun to tumble in the excitement of the last several moments, Addie tried to look stern when she said, “I think it’s a sorry day when folks get stared at by other folks who don’t seem to have anything better to do with themselves.”

  Actually, she was quite embarrassed. To hide it, she turned and scowled at the porch. “Now just look at this waste.” She whirled around again, put 184?her hands on the porch railing, and glared at the sheriff.

  “You better leave right this minute, Fermin Small. You’ve caused enough trouble for one night. If you stick around until I’m through cleaning up the mess you made, I’m liable to get mad all over again and use that gun to do the world a favor!”

  Fermin’s slack jaw snapped shut. He looked seriously vexed when he muttered, “I’m a-goin’, Miss Addie, but I’ll be back.” He stooped and snatched up his dusty hat, which had been knocked into the dirt when he fell the first time. “And I’m a-goin’ to take a good look at how a couple o’ maiden ladies seem bent on abettin’ a couple of no-good desperadoes, too. You can bet on it.”

  His mistake was in having his say-so within broom-shot of Ivy Blewitt. While Addie could only gasp in outrage, her passion and embarrassment forgotten, Ivy managed to get in two tremendous whacks before Fermin fled from the farmyard. Addie heard him race out of the gate, slithering on the loose gravel. She guessed he’d tethered his horse not far away, because the sound of hoof beats reached their ears a moment later.

  “That idiot! Why, the nerve of him!”

  “Well, now, Miss Adelaide, maybe he’s got a point. Maybe Lester and I shouldn’t be staying here after all.”

  Charley’s words, sounding thin and strained, made horror burst like a bomb in Addie’s breast.

  “No!” In her distress, her voice went squeaky, and she cleared her throat and tried again.

  “No, Charley. You and Lester just stay right here. Fermin Small has no right to torment us the way he’s doin’. Why, I’ll just bet folks are givin’ him a hard time about not catchin’ those old robbers who shot you the other day, and he’s hopin’ he can arrest you because you’re easy to find.” She sniffed haughtily. “If he were doing his job, he’d be out scourin’ the countryside for the gangs.”

  “I reckon.” Charley observed the mess of gingerbread and broken glass on the porch. “I’m sorry your nice surprise ended up so badly, ma’am.”

  So was Addie. She’d planned this evening so carefully. She and Ivy had pored over her grandmother’s receipt book until they’d found a recipe for mint juleps. It had taken no little effort to chip the ice, too. It was dark and cold out back in the dugout where they kept the ice. Ivy’d even whipped some cream for the gingerbread. Now her cake lay smashed on the dusty porch floor, and the juleps sat untouched on the porch table. There were shards of glass everywhere; some had even fallen into the geranium pot. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

  “Well,” she said with a philosophical sigh, “I reckon there’s not much to do but clean up now. I expect the hogs will have a treat in the morning.” She frowned as she looked at the gingerbread.

  “I’ll help, Miss Adelaide. Let me get the broom from Miss Ivy.”

  “Thanks, Charley.”

  Addie watched Charley walk down the porch steps, then turned her attention to the last place she’d seen her aunt and Lester.

  “My goodness!”

  They weren’t there any longer. The broom lay in the dust like a fallen soldier, but Ivy and Lester had disappeared. Addie leaned over the porch railing and peered around, but she didn’t see them.

  “I’ll just bet they snuck off to spoon.” Suddenly she felt quite miffed that they’d looked shocked when they’d seen her and Charley kissing. It didn’t seem equitable at all.

  Well, there was still a big mess to clean up, thanks to Fermin Small, so Addie guessed she’d just have put the unfairness of her situation aside and bend to the task at hand. She watched until she saw Charley grab the broom, then went into the house to fetch the scrap bucket, into which an entire gingerbread cake would now have to be dumped.

  Her grievance against Fermin Small seemed to swell like yeast dough on a warm day the more she thought about him. Imagine him insisting Charley and Lester were criminals! Why, the very idea was absurd.

  By the time she got the gingerbread cleaned up and Charley had dealt with all the broken glass, Addie was weary. Fortunately, the julep pitcher hadn’t spilled, although the ice she’d carefully chipped had long since melted. Nevertheless, she poured out a watery julep for herself and Charley. She guessed she’d have to find the glass she’d flung at Fermin in the morning since it was too dark to look for anything now.

  “Whew!” Addie sat with a thump, her legs sprawled out in front of her. She slumped back in her chair and wiped her brow. “I swan, Charley, I think Fermin Small’s finally slipped a cog.”

  “He’s a regular bother, all right.” Charley sipped his drink. “This is very good, Miss Adelaide.”

  Addie frowned. “It’d be a sight better if it wasn’t all melty.” She took a little sip of her own drink and wrinkled her nose. “I never had a mint julep before. What do you think, Charley? Do you think if it hadn’t gone watery, it’d taste like the ones you used to drink in Georgia?” She looked at him hopefully.

  “Well, Miss Adelaide, to tell you the truth, I never had very many mint juleps when I lived in Georgia.”

  “Oh.” Even though she knew her reaction to be unreasonable, Addie felt disappointed.

  “But I’m sure these would have been very good. They’re good now, in fact.”

  “No they’re not.” Addie was discouraged when she stared at the black emptiness of the yard in front of her porch. “You’re just too much of a gentleman to say so.”

  “I’m not such a gentleman, Miss Adelaide.”

  “You are, too. Why, you’re polite and you call me ‘Miss Adelaide,’ and everything. Shoot, I’ll bet if you lived in the olden days, you’d be a knight, Charley, and run around rescuin’ ladies tr
apped in castle turrets.”

  “That’s silly talk, Miss Adelaide.”

  Charley sounded as though he was getting cranky, and Addie looked at him keenly. He took another swig of his julep and she did likewise.

  “You’re just sayin’ that, Charley.” She pointed her glass at him. “And the reason you’re sayin’ it is ‘cause you’re a gentleman; a fine southern gentleman from Georgia. Aunt Ivy says all the gentlemen from Georgia are too fine and polite to complain about a lady’s mint juleps.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake.”

  Addie, ever honest, amended, “Well, maybe she didn’t specify mint juleps, but you know what I mean. You’re too much of a gentleman to complain about anything, Charley, and I know it.”

  Charley stood suddenly, downed the last of his drink and set his glass sharply on the table between them. “I’m not any more of a fine southern gentleman than you are a fine southern belle, Addie. For the good Lord’s sake, this is New Mexico Territory, not Georgia. You’ve lived here most of your life.”

  He looked pointedly at her naked feet sticking out from the end of her skirt, and Addie realized for the first time that she’d flopped down in a most indelicate manner. Stricken, she pulled her feet under her skirt and sat up straight in her chair.

  “Oh, Charley.” Addie pulled at her shirtwaist, trying to tidy herself, but she knew it was too late.

  “I—I reckon I didn’t act much like a lady when I threatened to kill Fermin Small, did I Charley?” she asked in a small voice.

  “No, I don’t guess that was very ladylike, Miss Adelaide.”

  She didn’t want to look at his face any longer because he sounded so censorious, so she bent her head and stared at her hands gripping the julep glass. “And I reckon Georgia ladies don’t try to climb over porch railings, either, or fling glasses at the sheriff.”

  “I don’t expect so.”

  She dared to peek at him. He still looked formidable, standing so straight and tall and handsome in the faint light of the moon and the lantern. Addie felt foolish and very much like a back-country hick. “I—I reckon they wear shoes most of the time, too, don’t they?”