Chapter 23 #2
Locked in a potent attraction, his head dipped to hers. She welcomed the first brush of his lips on hers and eagerly responded, opening when his tongue sought entry.
His fingers sank into her, and she mirrored his action, reveling in the soft thickness.
She felt his hardness rise against her, a pleasant pressure that made her heart flutter.
Anticipation of Seth’s intimate touch and the warmth of his naked body pressed to her, filling her, replaced the typical dread.
A gasp of delight escaped her as his lips traced a path down her neck. Had she ever felt such a consuming, all-encompassing passion for any man before?
But reality came crashing down when the point of the star pinned to his shirt pricked her breast, abruptly reminding her of his position and her lowly place in society. Something else raced through her mind—haunting words.
It seems you’ve got the kiss of death all over you, Red.
She pulled out of his arms, moving quickly away, her back to him so he wouldn’t see how difficult this was for her. “It’s getting late,” she said hoarsely.
“It’s too soon after Fenton.”
At his assumption, she couldn’t help but turn and ask, “What?”
“You loved him—”
“I did, and I miss him,” she readily admitted. “But I wasn’t in love with him.”
“Then, why do you hesitate? Surely you can feel the spark between us.”
“Why…” she sighed, raising a trembling hand to rub her forehead. “Where do I begin?”
“Nowhere. Because nothing matters to me except you.” The frustration in his voice was palpable.
“How can it not? Or don’t you recall how we met and where we were united?”
“You told me your story. None of that was your fault, Charlotte.”
“Do you think anyone cares about my story after what I’ve become?”
“I care! I’d be a hypocrite to condemn you when my past is far from pristine.”
“You are a man,” she whispered, the words almost lost in the patter of the rain on the roof.
“Women are not so easily forgiven. I’m accosted when I shop and laughed at when I fall in the mud.
I’m a pariah in this town, Seth. But you are the sheriff—a leader, the upholder of justice, powerful, and influential.
You’re appointed now, but you’ll need to be elected to continue serving.
I can’t allow you to ruin your chances by associating with me. ”
“It’s a job, Charlotte. Influence and power don’t matter to me,” he replied with conviction, cutting the distance between them in half.
“You forgot justice,” she reminded him. “It may not matter now, in the heat of the moment, but it will. And that matters a great deal to me.” She moved to the cold fireplace, putting more space between them because she was very near to saying to hell with everything and throwing herself into his arms. But she couldn’t. For his sake, she mustn’t.
“Charlotte—” he uttered, clearly frustrated and determined to continue the argument.
“Please,” she insisted, speaking over him. “Accept my gratitude for your kindness, but that is all I’m at liberty to give. I’m sorry.”
His curse was inaudible over a boom of thunder, but she read his lips and understood his frustration because she felt it, too.
Before she did something foolish or broke down in tears, she needed him to get out. Forcing herself to remain calm, she hoped for an equally calm voice when she suggested, “You should go before the storm worsens.”
“My deputies will include your cabin on their nightly rounds from here on out. I wish there was more I could do.”
“I’ll keep my shotgun handy,” she assured him, wishing he would leave so she could mourn what might have been. “I do so appreciate your concern, Sheriff.”
“Seth,” he corrected her.
“Good night, Seth,” she whispered.
Staring at her in the low light, a wealth of emotion glimmered in his eyes. If he took that next step, she would give in to the desire that consumed her. But he didn’t, his heated gaze lingering but stopping there before he finally turned and walked out.
When the door closed and the latch he’d repaired clicked with finality, she rested her head on the battered wood of the mantelpiece.
The top lawman in town getting involved with a disreputable madam—nothing but a box herder to some, and a filthy whore to many—would set off a firestorm of salacious gossip. She could already hear the whispered criticisms and feel the judgment. He was better off staying clear of her.
After extinguishing the oil lamp in the kitchen, the darkness enveloped her as she walked to her empty bed; the silence amplified her feelings of solitude.
There was little hope of anything else in her future.
Everyone knew who and what she was, and she couldn’t escape it.
Escaping Laramie was the only way to leave it all behind.
Going from bad to worse was possible, but unlikely, given her already dire situation.
But how could she go anywhere without money?
Charlotte rolled onto her side, indulging in tears and self-pity as the heavens opened and a similar deluge beat down on her roof.
***
The rain cleared overnight, and a bright, cloudless morning followed. After a nearly sleepless night, the cheerfully chirping birds were enough to make her sick.
While sipping her coffee, Charlotte weighed whether to set out for town for seeds, a shovel, and trowel to start her vegetable garden—a six-mile round trip—or simply return to bed. The appearance of a rider in the lane solved her dilemma. Wisteria had returned as promised.
She greeted her on the porch as she reined in her chestnut quarter horse and dismounted. “You’re out early.”
“I have a two-year-old who wakes with the chickens and live on a ranch. I know early. Besides, I had to deliver these.” Holding up a basket, she announced, “Fresh-baked blueberry muffins, and don’t worry, they’re safe. Letty made them, not me.”
“You’re not a baker, I take it.”
“Or much of a cook. My husband doesn’t seem to mind,” she added with a glint in her eye. “He says my talents lie elsewhere.”
Charlotte smiled, despite feeling a pang of envy. She extended her hand to greet the mare, admiring her glossy black mane. “She’s beautiful. My father raised horses. I miss being around them.”
“This is Willow,” Wisteria said, gently stroking her horse’s neck. “She’s yours.”
Charlotte froze, looking at her as if she hadn’t heard her correctly, but there was nothing wrong with her ears. “You must be joking. You can’t give me a horse. It’s too much.”
“If you hadn’t shared your suspicions with Luke, I wouldn’t have made it out of Madam Josephine’s opium den, Micah wouldn’t have a mother, and my husband would be devastated. So, it’s the least I can do,” she insisted.
“You don’t owe me anything for doing what’s right.”
“I understand that. But I want to help you. Besides, the Jacksons breed horses and won’t notice one less mare.”
“You...told them you were giving her away, right?” The last thing she wanted was to be accused of horse theft.
“Of course, silly. I just meant they have almost as many horses as cattle and can spare one, believe me.”
“But...”
“No ‘buts.’ I insist. And so does Luke.”
She gripped Wisteria’s hand and squeezed, hoping to convey how much this meant to her because she didn’t have the words. “I don’t know what to say except thank you.”
“That’s good enough for me. The saddle is yours, too, and Jack is bringing a bale of hay and oats when he comes to pick me up in an hour. I noticed a lean-to on the side of the cabin, so she should be all set.”
Charlotte twisted and looked at the cabin. “A lean-to? Really?”
Wisteria laughed. “You didn’t notice?”
“No, I’ve been rather busy, and it has been a hectic few days.”
“Understood. Speaking of busy, grab your shotgun. We’d better get started on your lesson. Jack will be here before we know it.”
Wisteria had endless patience, unlike Fen. And she didn’t grumble, curse, or threaten. By the time she packed up to go, Charlotte’s aim had vastly improved. She could hit both the inside of a barn, its broadside, and most of the targets Wisteria set up on a fallen tree at thirty yards.
She also brought four different pistols to see which Charlotte would handle best. In that, she didn’t fare as well.
What was more, every muscle in her body ached.
The pistols all had a recoil, but the shotgun kicked like a mule.
They spent an hour at target practice before Wisteria called it quits and packed up.
Still holding the Remington derringer, she handed it to her grip first—she didn’t have to be taught that at least.
“That’s yours, too,” Wisteria said. “You got six out of ten on the last round with it.”
“You’ve already given me too much.”
“It will only collect dust if I keep it. I’m partial to my Peacemakers.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Luke won’t touch it. Because it’s small enough to fit in a purse, he says it’s for pus— Uh…” She stopped, color rising to her cheeks, then quickly finished, “For women.”
When she passed her a whole box of bullets, she took them, once again murmuring, “Thank you,” and hoping she wouldn’t ever have to use them.
“Are you sure you’re going to be all right out here? I don’t mean safety-wise. You still need practice, but you should now be able to protect yourself. But you look so sad.”
She sighed. “I don’t miss the Red Eye itself, but I miss the people.
Fenton was a grumbly old grouch more often than not, but underneath all of that, he was a friend.
We argued, but we also laughed a lot. I was with him just about every day for over a decade, and it’s going to take a while for the hole in my heart left by his passing to go away.
Then, there are the ladies. Some I would rejoice never to see again, but there were a few who were close to me.
I worry about what will happen to them if I don’t get the saloon back. ”
“Why don’t you ask them?”
“I’m not going back to the saloon as long as Quentin Sneed is there.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll take you to where they’re staying.”
Confused, she asked, “They left the Red Eye?”
“Sheriff Walker said they didn’t want to stay there with Quentin either, or without you, but had nowhere to go.”
“Seth Walker?” she confirmed.
“Yes,” Wisteria said with a hint of a smile.
“The council chose well when they hired him. You know as well as I that Bozeman was useless, and the others who have come and gone since have been ineffective. Sheriff Walker isn’t the most experienced lawman, but he’s a decent, compassionate man.
And he can shoot.” She looked at Charlotte and grinned. “I like that in a man.”
“But what does the sheriff have to do with the Red Eye’s saloon girls?”
“He was looking for a place for them to stay until ownership of the saloon is settled. He mentioned it to Janelle and Aaron. My brother-in-law is also a good man. Anyway, they suggested a cabin on the ranch. It’s old and rather small, but no offense, Charlotte, it’s a lot better than this one.”
“None taken. But I have to ask. You Jacksons are so incredibly kind and generous—are you all aiming for sainthood?”
Her laughter resonated throughout the clearing as she shared, “You wouldn’t ask that if you saw the brothers together. At times, they behave like they’re twelve years old, joking, teasing, insulting, and even fighting, but it’s all good-natured.”
Having witnessed scuffles at the Red Eye, she empathized with Letty for the furniture that the three big men must have damaged, especially considering them as roughhousing boys.
Wisteria added, “It’s funny—the older two often team up against Aaron. Can you imagine?”
“He’s bigger than both of them. I bet he holds his own.”
“He does, but they still call him runt,” she replied, chuckling at the absurd misnomer.
“Thank you for letting me know. About the ladies finding a place to stay, not the fighting,” Charlotte clarified. “I was worried where they would go, especially after my experience at the inn.”
“This town is filled with hypocrites,” she grumbled, her amusement quickly replaced by anger.
“Some folks claim to be charitable. But I think the money they give to feed the hungry and shelter the poor is to keep them on the other side of town, where they don’t have to see them.
Most living in South Town are good, hardworking people who are down on their luck.
I should know. I lived there for a time. ”
Wisteria had known hardship. That shed light on her compassionate nature and her willingness to help those in need.
Charlotte was dying to hear her story. “Would you like to come in and tell me about it over a cup of tea?” She hesitated, trying to recall what was in her cupboards.
“I think I have some. I know I have cups.”
“Next time. I need to get back. I left Micah with his grandmother. Since he started walking and getting into everything, he can be a terror.”
“That’s hard to believe. He’s so sweet.”
“Is that an offer to watch him and experience it for yourself?” the young mother asked with a teasing smile, but at the same time, as if she were desperate and meant it.
Then she waved her hands while shaking her head.
“No. I wouldn’t do that to a friend, or I’d have none.
I could bring him for another visit, though.
Two on one is so much better than solo.”
“Anytime, provided Luke doesn’t mind us spending time together. All the brothers are so protective, I’m surprised he let you visit alone.”
“Overprotective,” she muttered.
“I think it’s sweet. A lot of husbands wouldn’t care.”
“I guess,” she sighed. “It can also be a nuisance. I ride on the ranch whenever Letty comes to play with Micah. It’s the only time I have to myself, a precious few moments of peace, to breathe the air and regain my sanity.
” She angled a sly glance at Charlotte. “Did you know the ranch borders Jenny’s farm, which is only a mile from this spot? It’s as if I never left Silverbend.”
Another rider appeared in the lane, leading another horse. “That’s Sam with Shasta.”
“Will he say you left Silverbend?”
“Yes. But only if he’s asked.”
The driver pulled up in front of them. “Ma’am,” Sam said, tipping his hat to Charlotte. “Ready to go, Mrs. Jackson?”
“Yep,” the petite firecracker, even shorter than Charlotte, said as she effortlessly mounted her horse. “I’ll see you again soon, Charlotte. With my two-year-old tyrant.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” she said, a smile curving her lips.
She hoped no one asked Sam because she enjoyed Wisteria’s company.
George Gleason’s men arrived before Charlotte got back to the cabin. So soon, they had to have passed Wisteria and Jack on the road. Two unfamiliar faces made it a team of four, and they started working straightaway. By late afternoon, both the lane and the creek path had been cleared.