Echoes of the Heart (11 page)

           
The
remaining guests arrived together shortly thereafter and Raeden busied herself
at the bar but with a mind of their own, her eyes drew back to Cash’s chiseled
face and lean hard body.
 
When their eyes
met, she hastily averted her gaze but she could sense dark penetrating eyes
disrobing her frame.
 
Never before had
she quivered under a man’s stare.

           
Mike
finally arrived, poured a glass of whiskey, approached Diane and bent to kiss
her.
 
With an arm around her waist, he
entered the guests’ lively conversation.

Eventually, the
women migrated to Raeden collecting around to admire her gown.
 
All complained about their outdated wardrobes
and made appointments for fittings the following week.
 
Her mind began to focus on new designs.

Coming to
Chamberlain had definitely been a good decision.
 
Now if she could just manage to keep away
from the sardonic marshal, everything would be perfect.
 
The way she felt in his presence made her
uneasy.
 
His touch sparked alien feelings
and she resented losing control.

           
When
the guests entered the dining room, Raeden had not given much thought regarding
the seating arrangements until Diane motioned everyone toward the elaborate
table decked with imported crystal and china gleaming in the lamps from the
chandelier.
 
All the couples sat next to
each other while Mike held a seat at one end of the table for Diane then sat at
the far end, which left Cash seated next to Raeden.

           
How
would she ever get through this evening at such proximity without making
herself a complete fool?

           
Taking
a deep breath, she glided to her chair while Cash pulled it from the table, his
nearness making her uneasy.
 
When his
hand brushed her bare shoulder, the sparks flowing between them made her
shiver.
 
Not to make an embarrassing
scene she composed herself, hoping no one noticed the blush warming her from
the neck up.

           
Cash
leaned down to her ear and whispered derisively.
 
“Are you cold, Rae?
 
Shall I fetch your wrap?”
 
How dare he use her nickname?
 
Raeden desired to strike out with a demeaning
barb, but decided a scene would only make matters worse.
 
Instead, she flashed him a contemptuous
glare.

           
He
gently pushed her chair to the table.
 
“You look lovely tonight, Miss Newell.”
 
Another hint of sarcasm peppered his tone.

           
She
countered his gibe this time with one of her own.
 
“Thank you, Marshal.
 
I must say you look
almost
civilized.”

           
Cash
completely ignored her during the meal, centering his attention on the other
guests while Raeden picked at her food but managed several glasses of wine to
steady her nerves, wondering why his disregard disturbed her other than the
fact his rudeness would not go unnoticed by the others.

The group lingered
over dessert and coffee, eventually retiring to the parlor for brandy.
 
The men headed for the porch to smoke their
cigars.
 
Raeden sipped brandy unable to
concentrate on the discussion around her then jumped from her seat when the men
came in, retrieving their wives cloaks for the journey back to town.

           
Cash
slouched in one of the lounge chairs legs stretched out, feet crossed at the
ankles looking far too comfortable while she felt so ill at ease.
 
He casually drank a second brandy, once again
searing her skin with dark predatory eyes.

           
After
seeing the guests to the door, Mike and Diane walked to the parlor, both
appearing tired.
 
“Cash I hope you don’t
mind if Rae sees you out.
 
We are exhausted
so we will say our good-byes now.”
 
Raeden kissed them both on the cheek and watched them ascend the wide
curving stairway hand in hand.

           
Turning
back to find Cash approaching, her heart pounded with each lazy step he
took.
 
With no warning, his hand reached
for her face, cupping her chin in his warm hand.
 
Before she could protest, he tilted her head
back then bent low, softly kissing her lips.
 
His lips lingered above her mouth, so near the aroma of cigar and brandy
feathered her nose.
 
An arm reached
around her back pulling her body close to him, breasts pressing into a
widespread taut chest.
 
Then his mouth
possessed hers like a hungry animal while she swooned over his arm, her knees
buckling under his ardent assault.

           
Finally
gathering some reason, she pulled from his grasp.
 
“What do you think you are doing,
Marshal?
 
Don’t touch me.”
 
She swung a hand to slap his face but with
cat-like reflexes, a hand grasped her wrist.

           
“Don’t
act like you didn’t know my intentions.
 
Have
you never been kissed before?
 
Good
night, Raeden.”
 
His towering frame
filled the doorway when he exited outside.
 
Slamming the door behind him, she heard his boots echoing across the
wood planks when he walked off the porch.

           
Back
against the door, she found herself gasping for breath. The heat from her lips
spread the length of her body, the sensation-settling deep in her core.
 
It must be the brandy.
 
What else could it be?
 
None of Christopher’s kisses ever left her
half conscious and weak in the knees
 

Opening the door
to put out the porch lamp, rays of moonlight reflected off Cash riding in the
distance while her fingers moved slowly across lips continuing to burn.
 
Stomping through the house, disgusted with
herself for falling prey to his advances, she continued to extinguish the
lamps.
 
He is nothing but a rogue as Diane mentioned, trying to add me to his
list of conquests, which with his looks are probably many.

Running into the
bedroom, she shed her clothing then slipped into a white silk nightgown and
plopped into bed.
 
Sleep proved illusive
in spite of fatigue.
 
She pushed
reminders of Cash’s kisses aside doused by a warning of danger if she allowed
herself to succumb to his demands.

Ten

Cash rode at a
quick pace away from the house with the scent of roses lingering on his
mind.
 
What had gotten into him for being
so foolish to let a spoiled sassy girl with pert red lips and deep green eyes
allow him to lose his composure?
 
He
could still taste her mouth as the cold night-air cooled his desire.
 
Not since the death of his wife had a woman
disturbed him in this fashion.
 
He just
needed an outlet.
 
He would go visit
Angie and have a few more drinks.

           
He
reined Rabbit into the paddock then strolled down the sidewalk toward the
saloon seeking out Angie to provide release from his torment and ease the
swelling below his belt.
 
The still night
air whisked past as he walked, eyes guarded to his destination, boots drumming
on the hard planks.

           
Angie
rushed to his side when he entered the saloon, wearing a bare- shouldered black
ruffled dress.
 
She slid a slim arm
through his bent elbow, leading him to the bar.
 
“What brings you here tonight?
 
You’re dressed for a party.”
 
No
words spoken, he pulled her around and pressed her back into the tall polished
bar, his bulging manhood against her torso.
 
“Well, I guess my question is answered.”

           
Cashed
downed the drink placed before him on one swallow and slammed the shot glass
down on the bar feeling the fire down to his stomach.
 
In a hurry to slake his desire, he hustled
Angie up the stairs and into her bed.
 
“You had better get your dress off in a hurry.”

Removing his gun
belt and clothing he climbed in beside her on the soft mattress, the sound of
springs creaking as his weight lowered to cover her mouth in a savage
attack.
 
He roamed every inch of her
lithe torso with greedy hands and fingers until she cried out her passion then
thrust in with deep rhythmic strokes driving her to the heights of pleasure
again before seeking his own release.

***

           
The
silver-crested moon cast eerie shadows reflecting through the open window.
 
A soft breeze billowed the curtain while he
laid arms folded under his head staring at the ceiling from his bed in the
hotel.
 
He recalled why he had turned to
a life of living on the edge at times, favoring loose women and not allowing
himself to feel.

           
On
the job in most towns he visited, he had women like Angie, a widow or wife
seeking excitement with no strings attached while he delved into escape leaving
behind the spread he and his father built.
 
What would his father think of him now and the years he had spent
aimlessly wandering, a trail bum with a gun for hire and still a hired gunman
though a peacemaker of sorts?

           
A
few hours before dawn, he fell asleep with the scent of roses and the vision of
large green eyes on his troubled mind until the pink and gold horizon broke
through the darkness signaling a new day.

Eleven

Raeden jumped out
of bed eager, almost giddy, to get started.
 
She searched through her wardrobe to choose a dress to fit the expected
warm weather and make an impression on the women in town, confident they would
recognize the work of a competent professional.

She selected an
outfit of pale green muslin trimmed in white eyelet, layered in the back and
form fit in the front draping down her slim hips in elegant folds.

Raeden stood in
front of the full-length mirror sweeping tendrils of hair away from her
face.
 
Thoughts about the previous
evening and the tall dashing marshal stirred emotions she did not know existed
as she brushed the tip of her fingers over pouted lips remembering the kiss.

The aroma of bacon
frying lured Raeden downstairs to the kitchen where Mike and Diane sat eating
breakfast before their departure.

A steaming cup of
coffee placed before her by Sadie, tasted as good as the aroma and warmed her
inside.
 
Too excited to eat a large
breakfast, Raeden spread apple butter on a slice of toast and refilled her cup.

***

In her elation, the
buggy ride into town seemed endless through the infinite grazing lands.
 
Dark pinnacles rose toward an ocean of clear
blue sky scattered with suspended puffs of snow white clouds rimmed with silver
reflecting the sunlight while lazily floating south.

           
Rooftops
came into view, so many in the middle of nowhere, not the rustic town she had
expected before she arrived.

           
Most
of the original homes looked small and quaint with wood storm shutters and
white washed picket fences surrounding well-maintained yards.
 
Spruce trees with interlacing branches,
closely planted together along three sides of some fences served as windbreaks
from winter gales.

           
Inside
the rear door of the store through the mudroom, a space held floor to ceiling
crates and boxes ready to stock the dwindling inventory.
 
Diane surveyed the stacks and suggested they
should empty the small crates first to get them out of the way before unloading
the larger ones.

           
An
alcove to the left had a large washroom complete with a tiny vanity and mirror.
 
Diane snatched a work apron from the
coat rack in the corner.
 
“Here, Rae, you
had better put this on.
 
You will soil
your lovely dress.”

           
Raeden
pulled on the apron as they moved into the main room.
 
The long wooden counter with deep brass
handled drawers held a register with large barrel jars and crocks, backed by
sparsely filled shelves.
 
To the left
stood a tall rectangular display case holding ammunition and various rifles,
shotguns and side arms.

           
Additional
shelving ran along each sidewall toward the front entrance.
 
The wood floor supported narrow tables on
tall legs for displaying clothing, linens and various sundries.

           
On
the right stood two adjacent rooms, one with a desk neatly stacked with
journals and a wicker caned chair.
 
Diane
led Raeden into the second where her bolts of material sat stacked on shelves
with a worktable nearby.
 
Her machine
stood in front of a window allowing an abundance of natural light
throughout.
 
Raeden surveyed the room
wide-eyed with a smile while Diane stood looking smug.
 
“We wanted to surprise you.
 
What do you think?”