Only My Love (36 page)

"What did you hear?"

"Only voices. I couldn't even make out who was talking most of the time. I wasn't
trying
to anyway."

He felt her agitation as she tried to defend herself again. He squeezed her fingers. "All right," he said softly. "All right. We won't talk about it any more."

It wasn't precisely what Michael wanted. She waited, eyes open, staring into the darkness, hoping he would tell her what her fate was to be. When Houston said Dee would think of something, what did he mean? She fell asleep wondering.

A week later she learned that whatever was going to happen would happen soon. Their lovemaking that morning was strained, some part of Ethan's desperation was in the way he touched her, held her, kissed her. She felt it all, not understanding until he left their bed and began to dress. It was then that he told her.

"I'm leaving this afternoon," he said, watching her reflection in the mirror as he shaved. Her skin was damp, the hollow of her throat invited another kiss. Kisses. "I don't want to leave you, but there's really no choice."

"This is about your meeting last week, isn't it?" She was kneeling in the middle of the bed, the sheet wrapped around her. "You're going to do whatever you planned that night."

Ethan felt her accusing words like needles at his back. He put down his straight razor and put on a shirt. "I played poker that night, remember? My trip's to Stillwater. I have to pick up an order of supplies for the mine. It will take a few days."

"Happy and Ben have been gone since Monday," she said. "Jake and Houston took some men out on a posse two days ago. Most everyone's returned but Jake and Houston."

"You heard what the others said. They split up to search the canyons. They'll be along directly."

"About the same time you and Ben and Happy all return? What about Obie? Or is he staying here to watch over me?"

"Dee will do that. Obie's got a trip to Stillwater too. No sense in us traveling alone."

He
was
leaving her with Dee. She had almost convinced herself she hadn't heard them correctly at the door that night. "I'm supposed to work here?" she asked, incredulous. "Without your protection? What do you imagine is going to happen while you're gone? Do you think Dee will lift a finger to see that I'm left unmolested?"

Ethan turned around and wiped the last bit of lather from his face. "Don't even think it. Dee won't let anything like that happen to you. She'd have to answer to me
and
Houston. He might not trust you, but he still wants you. You're a puzzle to him and the fact that you've managed to avoid being alone with him since the afternoon at the mines, has mostly served to whet his appetite."

"If it didn't escape your notice I'm certain it didn't escape Dee's."

"I've spoken to Kitty. She'll help you."

"So it
did
occur to you. And you're still going to leave me?"

"Keep your voice down. This is not a discussion you want overheard."

"What does it matter?" she asked. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with an impatient gesture. "It's not right. What about the protection you promised me? What about that? What good is your word if you leave, Ethan? While you're out rob—" The rest of her sentence was muffled as Ethan clamped his hand firmly across her mouth.

"Stop it right now," he whispered. "Nothing terrible is going to happen to you." He eased the pressure of his hand.

She was quiet as she searched his face, then, "I won't be here when you get back."

Ethan put his hands firmly on Michael's shoulders and pushed her back on the bed. He leaned over her. "That's the worst thing you could do. Take that thought right out of your head. You'd be doing what they expect. Listen to me, Michael. There won't be anyone outside this saloon to stop you. You'll even be able to get out of Madison. But not far. You don't know the first thing about these mountains. You don't ride well, a buggy won't go far on these roads before it breaks an axle, and if you don't fall and snap your neck on some narrow trail, the cold will get you and then the wild animals."

The picture he painted for her made her pale and fear made her reckless. "Then I'll tell someone what's going on. I
will,
Ethan."

"Tell them what? That I'm going to Stillwater with Obie?"

Michael looked away. "Let me up, Ethan," she said tiredly. "You know it was just an empty threat. I don't want to see you dead."

"Really? There was a time you wanted to see me hanged. You even promised to be there cheering."

"That's because you stopped me from leaving. And I know you didn't kill Drew. You'll just spend time in prison for everything else you've done."

"We'll see." He bent to kiss her mouth. She turned her head at the last moment and gave him her cheek. Ethan rose slowly, watching her. "I have to go to the mines this morning, but I'll be back before I leave for Stillwater to say goodbye."

"Don't trouble yourself on my account."

He shrugged and started to leave. When he got to the door she called to him.

"Ethan? I'm sorry. I want you to come back to say goodbye."

He paused, his hand on the knob, and looked at her for a long moment, his eyes searching, memorizing. Then he left without a word.

* * *

Michael wondered throughout the morning and into the early afternoon whether Ethan would keep his promise. She had difficulty concentrating on the dances they practiced or doing her chores. Lottie kept her busy in the kitchen until she burned a pie. She wandered aimlessly, first picking out tunes on the piano, then doing inventory at the bar. Hidden in the wings on stage, she smoked cigarettes until Dee caught her and raised a ruckus about her disappearing
and
smoking.

Michael finally ended up in her own room. That's where Ethan found her. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her notepad opened on her lap. She had one pencil in her hair and was chewing on the tip of the other. Her spectacles were at the tip of her nose. The expression in her eyes was distant, the set of her features thoughtful.

Ethan knew then that leaving her was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever done. Drugging her, the second hardest.

He kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot and set down the tray he was carrying. "Carmen was making hot chocolate when I came in. I thought you might like some."

Michael closed her pad and put it aside, smiling widely. "Peace offering?" He nodded. "You didn't have to," she said. "I'm sorry about this morning." Dropping her pencil, she scooted off the bed and went to the table where he was standing. She put her arms around his waist and hugged him, pressing her cheek to his chest. "I don't want you to go. I'll never change my mind about that. But I want you to come back safely."

He rubbed her back. "It's only for a few days and only to Stillwater."

His insistence on the pretense and what it said about trusting her, bothered Michael. She took a small step backward and looked up at him. There would be no changing his mind. It was there in the flinty, implacable eyes. "Let's have our chocolate," she said, "before it gets cold."

Ethan took off his coat and hat and hung them where he usually put his gun belt. He sat in the wing chair while Michael nudged the footstool closer to the chair and sat there. She already had a cup in her hand. "No," he said, "that one's mine. This is yours. It's sweeter, the way you like it."

She traded cups. "Thank you." She blew on her cocoa lightly, watching the liquid ripple, then sipped it cautiously. "It's good. And hot."

"What I said this morning, Michael, about nothing terrible happening to you while I'm away, I meant it."

"I know you mean it. I don't understand how you can enforce it."

Ethan didn't answer. Instead he encouraged her to drink her chocolate.

Michael found his insistence amusing. "Cocoa kisses," she said. "That's what you want."

He leaned forward and removed her spectacles then the pencil from her hair. Her cheeks reddened when she saw the pencil. "I don't want to stab myself in the eye," he said, dropping it on the table.

Michael raised her face. His kiss was sweet. When he drew back she said, "Is Obie waiting for you?"

"We have time."

Her eyes darkened. "Good." She finished most of her drink and set it down. She moved from the stool to his lap, took his cup, and put it aside also. "Kissing you is one of my very favorite things," she said.

"I'm flattered."

Smiling, she nuzzled his neck. His arms went around her. His chin brushed her temple. Her mouth found his. They kissed slowly, sipping, tasting. They kissed for a long time, unhurriedly because passion was not at the center of their desire. Closeness was.

He held her, stroking her shoulder and her back, learning the curve of her body with his palms. He heard her sigh. Kissing her closed eyes, Ethan helped her to her feet, came to his own, lifted her, and carried her to the bed. She protested that she could walk. Ethan ignored her. He wasn't so certain. The drops Dee had put in her cocoa were working more quickly than he expected. He needed to stay with her until she fell asleep, assure himself that she would be all right. Then he could leave, he thought. It would tear at his insides, but he could do it.

"I thought you liked kissing me," he whispered, lying down beside her.

"Mm." She moved sleepily, sinuously against him. "I do. I like it very much."

His fingers played in her hair, pulling out the pins and fanning it out across the pillow. "That a fact?"

She murmured something again, seeking his mouth. He obliged her with a long, leisurely kiss.

The last thought Michael had before she lost consciousness was that Ethan had never promised nothing would happen her, only that it would be nothing terrible.

Ethan laid the back of his hand across her forehead and then her cheek. Her skin was slightly warm, a little flushed. Exactly what Dee had told him to expect. Her breathing was strong and even and her pulse was good. Detra had done only as she said she would. "I'm taking you away from here when I get back," he whispered. "I'll have done everything I set out to do."

And some things besides, he thought to himself. Falling in love had never been part of his plans.

He got his coat and hat and left the room, locking it behind him. Downstairs, in Dee's office, he handed over the key. "It worked like you said it would. A little faster than I thought."

Detra pocketed the key. "She's probably a bit more susceptible than other people. I'll reduce the dose."

"You're sure this won't harm her?"

"You've asked that a hundred times already and the answer's the same. It's perfectly safe. I've used the drops myself when I have trouble sleeping. She'll feel tired and groggy with repeated use. She'll think she's sick, that's all, and that's the way I'll explain it to everyone else. She won't be out of her room while you're gone. That's safest for everybody."

Ethan tugged his hat lower over his forehead. It shaded the hard look of his eyes. "Listen to me, Dee. I want to be sure you understand that it's not Michael's fault that Houston's still interested in her. She's gone out of her way to avoid him. You must have seen that for yourself."

"So?"

"So I want you to guarantee Michael's safety while I'm gone. If anything...
anything...
happens to her you'll answer to me." And I'll make you wish I'd killed you quickly. He didn't have to say it. Dee's faltering step backward told she'd read what was in his mind.

"Unless she rolls out of bed, nothing's going to happen to her."

"You better make sure even that doesn't happen."

Dee skirted her desk, putting some distance between Ethan and her. "You really are a fool for her, aren't you?"

"Could be, Detra," he said, walking away. "Could be."

* * *

When Michael awoke her mouth was dry and her temples throbbed. Her head felt so heavy she could barely lift it. She turned on her side and opened her eyes slowly. Kitty was sitting in the wing chair with an embroidery hoop in her lap. She looked up when she heard Michael stirring.

"Ah, you're awake. When you didn't come down for dinner Dee sent me up to check on you. We were worried. You have a little fever." Kitty went to the bed and sat down on the edge. She touched Michael's cheek. Her fingers were very cool against Michael's skin. "What hurts?"

"Nothing," Michael said, her voice just a thread of sound. "Everything." She had a terrible taste in her mouth, slightly bitter. The chocolate gone sour, she thought. "Could I have a glass of water?"

"I have tea right here," Kitty said, jumping up to get it. "Is that all right?"

"Anything." Michael touched her throat. It seemed swollen at the curve of her jaw and neck. She tried to push herself upright. Kitty had to help her, plumping the pillows so Michael could rest against the headboard.

"That better?" She handed Michael the tea. "There's a little lemon drop in it. That's always good for a sore throat."

"How did you know I had a sore throat?"

"Your voice is just a croak. Oh, you mean how did I know to have the lemon drops on hand? Dee mentioned you might be a bit off in the throat. She was here just after Ethan left, I think."