Deborah Camp (33 page)

Damn Buck Wilhite! If she was going down, if she was sinking, by God, she’d take him with her. Straight to the bottom of Hell!

“T
hey just up and left?” Drew asked, dropping his fork into his empty plate.

Cassie had waited until he’d finished breakfast to deliver the news of T-Bone and Gabe’s departure.

“This is hard to believe,” Ice said, rubbing his chin, thoughtfully. “Very hard to believe.”

“Well, it’s true. They got antsy with the sheriff snooping around here, and I guess they began to think that where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” Cassie gathered up the men’s empty plates. “So there is a pile of work to be done and only us three to do it. You two had better get started. I’ll join up with you after I’ve put Andy down for his nap.”

“Hold up a minute,” Drew said, catching her by the skirt. “What else is going on? You’re acting mighty strange.”

“We’ve lost our two cowhands,” she repeated. “That’s what’s going on. Now, get on out there and get to work.”

Drew directed a speaking glance at Ice. “You go on. I’d like to talk to the boss lady here private.” He swept
his gaze to Oleta. “Why don’t you take Andy into your room and see to him? Cassie will be there shortly.”

Oleta glanced nervously at Cassie and only moved to obey Drew after Cassie gave her a quick nod. Ice strolled to the front door and let himself out. Cassie jerked her skirt from Drew’s fingers and placed the used dishes in the wash pan.

“It’s just you and me now, so tell me what’s on your mind,” Drew suggested.

Looking at him, she realized that he thought she had wanted to be alone with him. She shook her head at the irony of it. What she
didn’t
want was his company. She wanted to postpone what she must do—tell him about her life before she’d landed at the Square D.

“Isn’t it enough that we’ve lost our last two workers?”

“I admit it’s a blow, but something else is eating at you.” He folded his arms against his chest. “I’m listening.”

Lord, lord. She’d have to tell him. Couldn’t keep putting it off. Not with him insisting that she spill her guts right here, right now.

Cassie crossed to the window and pushed back the pretty curtain. Her mouth felt as if it were full of cotton.
Damn Wilhite. Damn him to hell!
She gathered in a deep breath and prayed that she could get through this without sobbing and begging Drew to give her another chance.

What’s that?

Her gaze sharpened. A horse and buggy. Company! Could it be that Roe had fired that snake Wilhite and had come to tell her so? Her heart fluttered with hope, then slowed. That rig didn’t belong to Monroe.

“Are you going to talk to me?” Drew asked.

Cassie squinted against the glare of the sun and tried
to get a better look. She smiled. Viola Danforth! She never thought the day would come when she’d be overjoyed to see that woman again, but joy was exactly what filled her.

“You’ve got company!” she announced, already heading for the door to throw it open and wave grandly at the woman driving the rig. “Howdy, Viola! Drew, Viola is here to see you!” she sang out. “Climb on down, Viola. I hope you can stay a spell. Drew doesn’t get a chance to entertain ladies very often. He just got back from Abilene. He’ll tell you all about it.”

Drew came out onto the porch and landed a glare on Cassie that felt like a fist. She edged away from him, still smiling but also trembling a little inside at his tightly checked anger. She reached back inside the house for her hat and gloves, then skirted past Drew.

“You’ve been to Abilene?” Viola asked, mounting the porch steps. “Has the new dry goods store opened up there yet?”

“Yes,” Drew answered, still glaring at Cassie.

“Did you go inside?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, do tell! I hear it’s twice the size of Anderson’s Dry Goods. Do they have dresses? Did you see any patterns? What about bonnets?” Viola looked from Drew to Cassie. “Am I imposing?”

Cassie blinked and tore her attention from Drew. “Imposing? Heavens, no! Drew, where are your manners? You haven’t asked Viola if she’d care for a cup of coffee or tea. You two visit and don’t mind me. I’ve got chores.”

She left Drew in Viola’s hands, feeling like a coward but glad for the reprieve. She knew she’d have to talk
to him, but at least she had another hour or so before she revealed to him who she really was and endured his disgust and her own disgrace.

However, Viola’s visit was far too brief. No more than thirty minutes passed before Cassie felt someone standing behind her. She was mucking out one of the stalls, and she whirled around, fearing for an instant that Buck Wilhite had returned. But it was worse. Drew stood there, a thundercloud of an expression on his face.

“You threw that woman at me,” he said, his voice dark as pitch.

Cassie drove the pitchfork she held into the mound of clean straw. “I knew she wasn’t here to see me.”

“Yeah, but you always griped before when she came. This morning you almost broke your neck running out on the porch to greet her.”

“I did no such thing,” she protested weakly. “I had work to do, so I—”

He gripped her upper arms and gave her a shake sufficient to slip the hat off her head. “Enough of that bull! Talk to me, Cassie. What’s wrong with you? How come you’re throwing that woman at me and treating me like I’ve come home with lice?”

“All right. Take your hands off me. You’re going to leave bruises.”

His grip loosened. He brushed her arms lightly, as if apologizing for his brute treatment, then his hands slid away from her. His tenderness wrenched her heart.

“Has Viola left already? She didn’t stay long.”

He lowered his brows and tipped back his hat. “Forget her. I have.”

Cassie swallowed hard. “She’s a good woman, I guess. She’ll make someone a fine wife.”

He stared at her,
through
her, into her soul. Cassie shivered, feeling exposed.
No use putting it off any longer
, she told herself.
Out with it
.

“I didn’t want to tell you this. I didn’t want to tell
anyone
this.”

“What?”

Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she kept them at bay as she faced him. A life full of hardships had created in her a place where she could stuff her feelings, her heart, her soul, keeping them apart from the pain. She did this now, leaving only a shell, a stone-faced woman, speaking in a lifeless tone about cruel twists of fate.

“I’m a liar and a cheat and no-’count for a good man like you, Drew,” she said, noting his shocked expression but driving on while she had the courage. “Don’t argue with me until I’ve finished, then you won’t want to argue. I know you’ve wondered why I accepted your pa’s proposal, why I came here to marry a man I never set eyes on before. Well, I did it because I wanted to start a new life. I wanted to bury who I had been and become who I always wanted to be—a lady. A real lady, not just a gal who wore fancy bonnets and pretty gloves and pretended to be as good as any other woman on the street.”

Cassie peeled off her gloves and examined her unmarked hands. She sensed Drew’s confusion but also his curiosity. Looking into his eyes, she girded herself for what was to come.

“Back in Whistle Stop I
was
a waitress.” Was that relief she saw in his eyes?

“You’ve already told me.”

“And before that…” She swallowed, her mouth dry,
her heart pumping hard. “Before that… I was a whore.”

His face drained of color and he shook his head.

“Yes, I was. I worked in a saloon. This man… the man who whipped me… he owned me. Taylor, that was his name, made men pay top dollar for me. I was his special girl.”

Drew continued to shake his head, and Cassie could no longer watch his silent denial. She stared at the toes of her boots.

“I was miserable, but I didn’t see a way out until this woman, this wonderful lady I told you about before, she showed me the way. Adele Gold educated me, taught me to read and do my numbers, gave me a job as a waitress.”

He was so quiet that she finally had to look up at him to see his reaction. What she feared was there on his face: the shock, the disbelief, the mounting disgust.

“So, that man, the one who owned you and sold you, he whipped you?”

She nodded, surprised that he had fixed on this. “Yes, in front of the whole town. He was going to kill me. That’s when I got away from him. The friends I’d made rallied around me and protected me from him.”

“Why tell me now?” He reached out and trailed his fingertips down her sleeve. “Is it because we … that is, you and me are …”

“Not because I’m noble or good at heart,” she said, stepping back from him and from the hope in his eyes. He
still
wanted to believe that she was a decent person, a lady, a woman worthy of him. Bless him. “I’m telling you now simply because you’d find out sooner or later. Buck Wilhite will see to it.”

He frowned. “Wilhite? What’s he got to do with this?”

“He’s a black-hearted hired gun who never goes anywhere unless he’s paid big money to kill somebody or cause heavy grief. Drew, I’m afraid he’s here to hurt you, to kill you. Of course, if that’s true, then that means Monroe Hendrix hired him to kill you, which makes no sense. I guess Wilhite is acting on his lonesome in this. Maybe he’s jealous ‘cause you’re staying here with me.”

“Why Wilhite?” Drew removed his hat just long enough to rake his fingers through his hair. “Why would he tell me something about you?”

Cassie ground her teeth, then forced out the confession. “He knew me back when I was called Little Nugget. My pa called me that. Said I was his good-luck charm, his little nugget of gold.” She released a sour laugh. “But I wasn’t so lucky for him. I left him when I was fifteen and struck out on my own. Problem was, a young gal couldn’t make decent money. The only way to get money was by being indecent. Eventually that’s what I was.” She swallowed the bile burning her throat. “Am.”

“He’s … been… with … you.” The words were spoken with extreme difficulty, and Drew’s face was deathly white.

“No!” Cassie reached out a hand but didn’t touch him. The temptation to tell him about Wilhite trying to rape her here in this very barn was strong, but she resisted. Common sense told her that Drew would seek revenge, and his mindless rage would get him killed. “No, he hasn’t, but he wanted to. Anyway, he knows
me from back then, and he’s told me that he’s going to shout it to the four winds. Pretty soon everybody around here will see me for what I am—a lying cheat who used to sell herself. That is, everyone will know unless I pump a bullet into Wilhite and shut his big mouth once and for all.”

“You were a whore.”

Those words coming from him tore chunks from her heart. Cassie nodded, the movement taking great effort. Her throat closed, blocking any further words. She’d said enough.

“Did the old man know?”

She shook her head.

“Anybody else know, other than Wilhite?”

Again she shook her head.

“A whore.”

She cringed. “Drew, I want you to know that men have had my body, but I never let any of them touch my heart. Not until you. You’re the only one I opened my heart to. If that means anything at all to you…”

He stared deep into her eyes for almost a full minute, his eyes growing darker and wetter by the second, and then he pivoted and strode from the barn.

Cassie sucked in a breath and her knees buckled. She rested her cold cheek against a splintered post and placed a hand above her breasts. Yes, something was still beating in there. But how could that be when Drew Dalton had just ripped out her heart?

After a while, she managed to drag her empty shell of a self into the house. She went straight to her room, shaking her head when Oleta inquired after her, and collapsed onto the bed. Pulling Miss Tess into her arms, she rocked back and forth, her tears wetting the doll’s
cloth body. She’d done this before, held this doll and wept and wished for a better life.

Miss Tess had always represented her ideal—a lady people respected. She’d felt like a lady when Drew had held her, caressed her gently, kissed her softly.

But “feeling” and “being” were vastly different. She’d never be a lady, especially not to Drew. He was so fine and proud. He’d expect nothing less in his woman. He deserved nothing less.

Stars peeked out from the twilight curtains, but Drew stayed put. Stretched out on a knoll of land near Two Forks Creek, his favorite spot on the ranch, he listened to Dynamite chomping grass, accompanied by a chorus of crickets and tree frogs.

Peaceful
, he thought, but inside he felt little peace. Since Cassie’s confession, his mind and his gut had been tied in knots and his heart had ached continuously. He couldn’t go back to the ranch house and face her again until he had his feelings under control, until he knew what to think about this news she’d given him.

First off he’d been stunned, and then he flat hadn’t believed her. But then he’d seen the pain in her pretty brown eyes, and he’d realized that she was telling him the unvarnished truth. After that he didn’t know what to think or feel or say to her.

So he’d come here to this swell of land, a place he had visited many times in his youth when living with his father had become too much to endure. How many nights had he slept out here under a canopy of stars, wishing never to face his old man again?

He sure never thought he’d meet a woman who understood his upbringing, who could sense his deeply
rooted resentment and the strange love-laced hatred he carried within his heart for his father. But Cassie knew. Her life had almost mirrored his own. She knew firsthand what it was like to be shoved around and treated like a mongrel. Her heart, like his, had been put through the wringer.

Those scars on her back she tried so hard to hide were nothing compared to the ones she hid inside. She deserved better, deserved
someone
better. After all, she’d come here to get away from trouble, and he’d dumped it on her doorstep. Trouble seemed to follow him, dog him, torment him. What was worse, he had forced Cassie to share it.