The Lawman's Bride (18 page)

“I’m not in any hurry,” he answered, resting his weight on his elbows and kissing her moist neck, then her swollen lips.

She pushed damp hair from his forehead, then let her arms go slack so he could move. “Let’s cool off.”

“Sorry I got you sweaty.”

“Horses sweat,” she informed him. “I’m glowing.”

With a grin Clay found his shirt at the end of the bed, dried her glistening torso before wiping his face and chest. He stretched out beside her, and the breeze from the open window wafted across their cooling bodies.

After several minutes of silent communion she sat up, bringing her knees up in front of her and wrapping her arms around them. Her dark hair was a mass of damp tangles. He admired the line of her slim back, the curve of her hips and the curvaceous side of her breast. He drew his finger up the bumpy ridges of her spine, then splayed his palm against her back, his tanned hand dark against her white skin.

She turned to him, her expression undecipherable.

Sophie studied Clay’s relaxed features, the defined outline of those lips that gave her such pleasure, the breadth of his shoulders and chest…and marveled at his restrained strength. How any woman could have rejected this man she couldn’t understand.

“You and Susan,” she asked. “Did you ever…?”

“No.”

Of course not. His fiancée had been a respectable young lady, and gentleman that he was, he hadn’t compromised her reputation. “Who then?”

He peered at her through slitted eyelids. “You wanna know?”

She nodded.

“Dance hall girls mostly. A widow lady west of here I visit now and then.”

She hadn’t expected to feel jealousy, but here it was in all its unpleasant glory. She recognized it as a feeling of resentment and possessiveness. Was this what love felt like? “No wonder they’re willing…with you, I mean.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“I didn’t know it could be…special.”

“It’s usually just ordinary,” he told her. “Not like that.”

“No?”

He moved his head slowly from side to side. “No. It’s not.”

Sophie couldn’t resist stretching out along his side, her cheek against his chest. This man had done something no other had been able to. He’d made her feel things. Things intense enough to frighten her.

“I bought you somethin’.” She felt the rumble of his deep voice against her cheek.

“You did?” She raised her head to look at him. “A gift?”

He nodded.

“Where is it?”

He untwined their legs so he could perch on the bed’s edge and reach for his trousers. He pulled them on and caught a clean shirt from a drawer to toss to her. She shrugged into it and rolled the sleeves back.

Clay padded out of the room, and Sophie tried to imagine what kind of gift he’d buy for her. She’d pretend to like it no matter what it was. Candy? Ribbons? No, she
would
love it.

He returned with a small wooden box. Sophie saw the paper label on top. Whatever he’d bought her was small enough to fit in a cigar box.

The mattress dipped as he handed it to her, joining her again.

“It’s heavy,” she said. She studied his expression a moment. His face gave nothing away.

Sophie opened the lid.

Her gaze rested upon row after row of slim, perfectly rolled cigars. The tantalizing aroma reached her, and she blinked.

She met his eyes.

The corner of his mouth inched up. He produced a tin and flint from his pocket and extended them.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“They’re your favorite,” he answered.

Something in her heart swelled to exquisite fullness. “How would you know that?”

He grinned. “I’m the law, Miss Hollis. I have my ways.”

“But how did you…?”

“You carry a cigar to the park when you take a walk.”

Sophie wrapped her mind around his acceptance of her eccentricity. The feeling in her chest was so intense it was almost painful. She adored his gift because it wasn’t a bribe. Nor was it something he wanted her to have. She loved him, this man who wanted only to give to her. “You truly don’t mind?”

“I’ll try one with you. That is if you don’t mind sharin’.”

She grinned and plucked out two cigars. Clay lit them both and they propped pillows against the headboard and watched smoke rings curl into the air toward the pine ceiling. Sophie felt young and happy for the first time she could remember.

“Mrs. Winters would have a fit of apoplexy,” she commented with a contented sigh.

“Over the cigars or over you bein’ naked in my bed?”

Sophie coughed and he pulled her forward to pat her back.

“Both,” she answered.

“It’ll be our secret,” he said with a grin.

Several minutes passed and Sophie enjoyed the quiet and the sense of well-being.

“Sophie,” he said finally.

“Hmmm?”

“When you’re deciding what you want, maybe you’d give a thought to marryin’ me.”

She stared at him.

“I’m not proposin’ or anything. I wouldn’t lay that burden on you. I’m just sayin’ I’d be more than willin’ if you wanted. That’s all.”

Sophie’s head rang with those words. If she didn’t have an even bigger secret hanging over her life, she would love nothing more than to marry Clay. To spend the rest of her life basking in the warmth of his goodness.

“You know I have a Harvey contract,” she said.

He held up a hand. “Don’t make any excuses,” he told her. “Don’t say more. Just store the idea up here.”

He tapped her head with a gentle finger.

She’d choose him over life if she had the option. Even if his acceptance of her was all based on a lie, Clay had become her heart’s most compelling desire.

But she couldn’t make a decision like that. She didn’t have the right. Nor did she have the right to love him. There was still another shoe waiting to drop; there was still Garrett to deal with.

The day’s pleasure evaporated into the sultry air as thoughts of the man who meant to control her by any means possible returned. Something had to be done about him. And about Amanda before Sophie could think of herself again. This day had been purely selfish. Purely a greedy taste of what life might have been like.

Her love for Clay was another one of her secrets now. All along Sophie had been thinking of herself. Now she had more to think about. Being Sophie Hollis wasn’t about pretending anymore. It was about caring. She had to protect Clay from himself. If he learned, he would have to make a choice. His feelings for her weren’t good for that purpose.

“I’d better get back,” she said finally.

“Like to bathe? I’ll fill the tub and wait outside.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Be pleased to.” He got up and left the room. Minutes later she heard the scrape of the metal tub as he set it on the floor in the kitchen.

She padded out to watch as he poked kindling into the stove.

“It doesn’t need to be warm,” she told him. “Cool will feel good.”

He pumped several more buckets full and brought her soap and toweling. He took a step back.

Sophie sensed his intent to leave the room. Once again he was seeking her pleasure and comfort. “You don’t have to go unless you have something you’d rather attend to,” she told him.

He grinned with the cigar held between his teeth and remained.

She draped his shirt over the back of a chair. Clay’s appreciative gaze swept over her, and he took a long stride forward to take her hand as she stepped into the water.

Sophie settled down into the cool water and leaned her head against the tall back. Puffing on her cigar, she blew smoke rings into the air. “You certainly know how to treat a lady, Marshal.”

Clay sat backward on a kitchen chair to watch. “Wanna go riding next Sunday, too?”

It was late afternoon by the time Clay brought Sophie back to the dormitory. She ate supper in the employees’ dining hall, thoughtful and subdued while the others chattered. She kept going over her poor selection of options. The most appealing was to buy a gun and shoot Garrett in his black heart. Tempting. But she didn’t have it in her. She was a lot of bad things, but a murderer wasn’t one of them.

She could march down to the jail and tell Clay the truth right then and there, let him deal with Garrett and put himself in the position of arresting her alongside him. Not tempting.

She had nothing to hold over Garrett’s head, nothing to scare him off. He held all the cards.

She could tell Amanda the truth and pray she’d listen and not turn her in.

She could pack her things and run. She wouldn’t get far, but she could spare Amanda, because Garrett would follow. Clay wouldn’t understand, though. She’d be another woman who didn’t want him enough to stay, enough to choose him.

If her options were cards, she’d shuffle them and see which one came out on top. She wasn’t playing a game of chance, however. More than her own life was at stake.

She couldn’t forget that Garrett had threatened Clay’s life. Now that she’d sealed a relationship with the marshal, Garrett would have all the more reason to want him out of the picture.

The most palatable of all the options was telling Amanda. As evening arrived and the girls settled into their various activities in the sewing and courting rooms, Sophie thought the idea through.

Finally deciding, Sophie called Amanda aside. “I need to talk to you.”

Amanda followed her to their room. “You look so serious, Sophie. What is it?”

“I have to warn you about something, so there are things I need to tell you.”

“Warn me? What’s this about?”

“It’s about Mr. Morgan.”

Amanda bristled. “Are you going to lecture me again?”

Sophie took her arm. “I knew him before I came to Newton. I knew him for several years actually. We were together.”

Amanda just stared at her in stunned disbelief. “What are you saying?”

“I told you that you don’t know what kind of man he is, because I do. I know he’s not who he seems. This is all an act. He wants to manipulate me, so he’s using you to get to me.”

Tears welled up in Amanda’s eyes. “You are being cruel! Why don’t you want me to be happy? You have all the admirers you need! Why are you trying to spoil this for me?”

“I’m not. Please believe me.”

“You’re saying Mr. Morgan doesn’t care about me? That he really wants
you?
”

“Not in a good way,” Sophie said. “To control. That’s the kind of person he is. You have to listen.”

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’re so selfish and—and—jealous that you’d stoop to something like this! It’s hurtful, Sophie. Plain hurtful. And mean.”

“I know how it seems,” Sophie said, her throat tight with regret. “I’m so sorry. You got caught in the middle through no fault of your own. You’re in this position because I came here and let down my guard enough to make friends. I know your feelings are hurt, but I can’t let this go on. I can’t let him use you. It would only be worse.”

“You think he’s using me because he loves you?”

“No. He only wants to hurt me,” she answered. “To get what he wants.”

“I don’t even know who you are anymore.” Amanda’s voice quivered.

Sophie barely knew herself. Her life was a mess, and she was a big fraud. She’d put the people she cared for in danger. “Can you trust me when I say I know he’s not good for you?”

“We can’t be friends anymore.” Amanda’s lips pursed tight as though she was holding back more.

“I am your friend,” Sophie pleaded. “Please, listen.”

“I’m not listening. Ever again.” Amanda turned and fled from their room.

Sophie bit back the sting of tears and collected her wits.

There was still one more alternative. One option she hadn’t shuffled with the deck of ideas.

She could buckle to Garrett’s manipulation.

Chapter Fifteen

S
ophie studied her likeness in the mirror. It was her or Amanda now. And she wouldn’t let it be Amanda. She dressed her hair and changed into her walking boots. Minutes later, she’d run down the back stairs and was headed for the Strong, the only other hotel as nice as the Arcade. It being a Sunday night, he probably hadn’t gone to a gaming hall. All the wealthy men were home with their families.

She found him in the hotel dining room. Garrett looked up from his newspaper. He set a teacup in its saucer.

That self-important smile spread across his face. “Well, well, well. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”

A waiter immediately swooped in to pull out a chair for Sophie. He brought her a rolled napkin, silverware and a water glass. “I’ll come back for your order, miss.”

“I’m not eating, thank you.”

“What do you want?” she asked, as soon as the waiter was out of earshot. “What will put a stop to this and make you go away?”

“You’re not thinking clearly if you think you can get rid of me.”

“What do you want from me? Besides the money, which I’ve told you is gone.”

“I want you to recognize the error of your ways, my dear, and make your indiscretions up to me.”

“How?”

He leaned back and laced his fingers on the tabletop. “I’ll let you work it off. Once the entire amount has been amassed you can be free.”

“Steal that much money?”

“Come now. Steal is such an insulting word. We relieve greedy people of the excess they’re perfectly willing to hand over.” He picked up his cup.

She couldn’t do what he was demanding in Clay’s town, under his nose. She couldn’t not do it or she would endanger the man she loved. “Pay it all back?”

He took a leisurely sip. “Surely you don’t think I’d settle for only a portion. Not after you took it
all?
”

“The money we took was always all yours,” she told him. “I never got a share. I never chose how you spent it.”

“I gave you everything you ever needed,” he argued. “The finest clothing and jewelry.”

“That
you
selected and
made
me wear. I never had what I needed or wanted. What I needed was freedom.”

Anger flickered across his narrow features. “Does your lawman give you freedom? Tell me, did he set you free today?”