Maverick Wild (Harlequin Historical Series) (13 page)

“G
ood morning, Mr. Morgan,” said a soft feminine voice.

“Morning,” came Chance’s cool reply.

Cora tried to keep her focus on the bolts of gingham and lace piled on a makeshift table as Chance did his best to gather other supplies while practically tripping over women nudging others out of their way for his attention.

“Mr. Morgan,” said another breathless harlot.

“Morning.”

“I’ve a mind to make a new spring dress. I just can’t decide on the color. Perhaps you can suggest one?”

Of all the impertinent…!

“Well,” said Chance.

Cora glanced up, quite curious to hear his suggestion.

A pretty girl with light hair and eyes smiled up at him. He did look dashing in his dark hat and long range coat. The heavy canvas concealed the double holster hanging at his hips. She’d been surprised by the gunbelt this morning, but after his experience two weeks ago, she couldn’t blame him for traveling armed. Since they’d arrived at the general store, she’d begun to wonder if he’d strapped on his guns to defend himself from the local women.

He caught Cora’s gaze from across the room. The irritation chiseled across his features was as plain as the nose on his face. Cora bit her lip against a laugh. She nearly felt sorry for him. His instant smile awakened the butterflies that had been living inside her lately. He winked at her before turning back to the ever-attentive young woman standing before him.

“Why don’t you ask my stepsister, Miss Tindale,” he suggested. “She has far more experience with such things.”

“Oh.” The woman spared a quick glance her way. “Well…thank you.”

Chance glanced back at Cora Mae and found her smiling.

“I’d be delighted to help,” she said. Her fingers held the end of an apricot-colored fabric she’d been eyeing for a time. He could envision a summer dress, the soft color a perfect contrast against her pale skin.

He continued toward the side counter and hoped the other ladies flocking around the fabric table had gotten the message—he wasn’t in town to socialize.

“Heard you had a woman out on your place,” said Andrew Stone as he stepped up to the counter. “Sister, huh?”

“Stepsister,” Chance amended.

“You ought to bring her by next weekend for the town social.”

“Since when does this mining depot host town socials?”

“Since my wife decided to throw one together.”

Mrs. Stone, a stern-looking woman of sturdy build, didn’t seem the tea-toddling type. She stood amid the flutter and bustle around the fabric table, sheers in one hand, her sleeves pushed up over her thick forearms. Sweat glistened on her wide brow as she measured out yards of fabric.

“She figured this shipment of material will have the ladies sewing up a storm and looking for a place to flaunt their new outfits.”

“A regular husband roundup, huh?”

“Or wife, depending on how you look at it,” Stone retorted.

“I take it you’re charging a fee for this town social?”

“Just for the refreshments,” he said with a grin. “Spring’s in the air, you know? The cold of winter will be on us before you know it. Winters can be awful long without a woman to keep you warm. She’s nice lookin’,” he said, sizing up Cora as though she were a prize mare. “Bet she has an offer within the first hour.”

The last thing Cora Mae needed was to be ogled by a bunch of lonely miners. “I’ll mention it to my crew.”

“You do that,” said Stone.

By the time he had all the supplies loaded in the wagon, Cora Mae had made it through the line of women waiting to have their fabric measured and cut by Mrs. Stone. Cora Mae seemed to be enjoying herself. He figured it must have taken three dozen pins to get her hair up in the tight, twisted coils at the crown of her head. Long curls hung around her face, knocked loose during the ride to town. She chatted pleasantly with the other women, yet somehow stood out from the plain faces of the other young ladies and older biddies crowded around her.

It’s the light of her smile—pure as sun spray.

Realizing he was staring, he turned his attention to the candy jars on the counter. As he picked out an assortment of sweets for Josh, Cora Mae approached with a stack of cut fabric. Right away Chance noticed something was missing.

The apricot.

“Have you forgotten our agreement?” he asked.

“What agreement was that?”

“That you’d purchase some supplies for yourself. Surely you could use a spring dress or two.”

Color tinged her cheeks. He didn’t see why. It wasn’t as though he’d suggested she needed new bloomers. Though she probably did.

“Mine is on the bottom,” she said.

Chance glanced back at the stack and noticed the dark muslin beneath the folded pieces of green, pink, white and blue gingham.

“The brown?”

Her brow puckered with a frown. “You don’t like it?”

“You do?”

“I don’t have a brown dress.”

True enough. She also didn’t have an apricot dress, but he was sure that pointing that out would be borderline inappropriate. “A brown dress will be real nice,” he said, wanting to ease the concern he’d put in her gaze, figuring brown wouldn’t look bad. Though it wouldn’t look much different than the dark gray she wore now or the black dresses in her wardrobe. There was nothing wrong with having a little variety.

“That apricot was real pretty, too.”

“The chiffon?” She shook her head. “Too expensive, and the lighter fabric would take more yardage.”

He didn’t care how much it cost, he wanted to see her in apricot. “Have you gotten all you need, then?”

“Yes. I finished Skylar’s list before sorting through the material.”

“Why don’t you walk down to the depot while I settle up here, see if any packages have arrived for Skylar?”

“Okay.” She turned away.

As Cora Mae reached the door, Salina stepped inside. Chance’s gut soured at the sight of her.

“Miss Tindale,” Salina said, her smile clearly forced.

“Mrs. Jameson.” Cora Mae’s tone carried the same underlay of steel. She continued past her and started across the busy road.

Chance made his way to the fabric table. Spotting the long spool of apricot, he reached into the pile and pulled out the soft fabric.

“Mr. Morgan?” said Mrs. Stone, looking away from her line of ladies. “Shall I cut some for you?”

“Nope. I’ll take the whole thing.”

The woman blanched. “The entire bolt?”

A dozen envious eyes glanced at the fancy fabric.

“The whole thing,” Chance confirmed, and carried it to the counter. “Wrap that up for me, would you, Stone?”

Mr. Stone’s eyebrow shot up. “Sure thing.”

“Aren’t you the sweetest brother-in-law.” Salina smiled brightly.

Considering she’d walked up to him without a trace of hesitation, he could only guess that her foreman hadn’t filled her in on all of his recent activities.

“Though not quite the color I’d choose for Skylar.”

“I’m not buying it for Skylar.”

Her smile widened. Did she think it was for her?

“Here you go,” said Mr. Stone, placing his paper-bound parcel on the counter.

“Did you hear about the town social next week?” asked Salina.

He was about to suggest she go with her
foreman
when he caught sight of Cora Mae through the shop window. She charged across the street as though running from a pack of wolves.

He tugged a pouch of coin from his pocket and tossed it onto the counter. “That ought to cover it, Stone. If not, put it on my tab.” He grabbed the pile of sweets and fabric and rushed to the door.

“Chance?”
Salina called after him.

He met Cora Mae on the boardwalk. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you have everything?” she asked in a rush.

“Yeah, but—”

“Can we go? I really want to go.”

Her body trembled. Something had scared her.

“Please, Chance,” she begged. Cora’s heart pounded in her throat. If Mr. Grissom spotted her, he’d drag her back to Delaware.

Chance held her gaze for a moment.

Fear mingled with frustration as she fought the burn of tears.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the wagon. He placed his parcels in the back and turned to help her onto the seat. “What happened to upset you?”

Mother must have sent him. The man might dress as a gentleman, but Mr. Grissom was a mercenary to the bone.

“I—” From the corner of her eye, she spied the tall black carriage coming down the road, and the wide shoulders of Mr. Grissom’s steel-gray suit. She whipped toward Chance, trying to hide herself.

Chance saw the stranger as Cora Mae reached for him, pressing her face toward his neck. If she intended to use him, he’d damn well make it worth his while. Sliding a hand under her chin, he tilted her face up and pressed his lips to hers. She gasped, and he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue delve into her mouth as his arms locked around her.

The moment he felt her arms sliding around his neck, her body leaning into his, he lost his mind in a blur of desire. He kissed her until she sagged against him.

Fighting for restraint and sanity, he pulled away.

Cora Mae stared at his mouth. The combination of shock and awe he saw in her expression made him want to pull her right back to his lips.

“Oh…
my goodness
,” she gasped.

“Time to get going,” he said, turning her around and lifting her up onto the wagon seat. “I think we’ve created enough town gossip, and as much as I’d like to spend the afternoon kissing you, we have a long ride back.”

“Guess he won’t need to bring his stepsister to the social after all.”

Salina stared out of the store window, her stomach rebelling at the image still burning in her mind.
How could he?
He was supposed to be courting
her!

“Disgraceful,” snipped the woman standing beside her.

Hit by another wave of morning nausea, Salina clamped a hand over her mouth. An ailment she couldn’t blame on Chance. Just like Chance, her body had betrayed her.

After a week of nausea, she couldn’t deny the severity of her situation. She had hoped the unpleasant turn of events would help her speed along their courtship. She only needed to get Chance into her bed.
Just once. And soon.

And then she’d be through with men. She would not become her mother! But without Chance…
Dear God
. She’d lose everything, and be left with a child she didn’t want.

“Oh, Salina,” said Mrs. Curry, the wife of a coal miner, “I’m so sorry, dear. Weren’t you just saying how Chance Morgan had been courting you?”

“Yes,” she said, letting her sorrow seep through, the concerned gazes of the women around her distracting her from her shock. “I dare say, he will have some explaining to do.”

“I should think that kiss explained it quite well,” said Mrs. Stone. “You bes’ come to the social next Friday.”

Salina bristled. One kiss did not mean he’d chosen that sow over her! She’d just not tried hard enough. But she would. Wyatt would not trap her into her mother’s life! She’d have Chance Morgan and Wyatt would never be the wiser.

The door opened again. Salina turned and felt the loss of her breath. The finest specimen of a man she’d ever seen filled the doorway. A man every bit the size of Chance Morgan, and ten times as refined. He smoothed his gloved hands across the front of his gray silk jacket as he strode inside. He lifted a small black hat away from the dark hair slicked back against his scalp.

Impeccable, wealthy and clearly new to the area.

He glanced around the store before his gaze settled on her.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

Seemed he also had good taste.

Salina flashed her best smile. Perhaps her options were not so desolate. “Good afternoon.”

“I’m looking for Miss Tindale.”

Hell and damnation!
Rage flared into her cheeks. Had the world gone mad?

“I was told she was in here,” he said.

“You just missed her,” said Mrs. Stone over the snipping of her shears.

“Haven’t seen you in here before,” Mr. Stone called from behind the counter. “What can we do ya for?”

“I’ve come to retrieve Miss Tindale. I’ve been informed she’s staying at the Morgan Ranch.”

“What do you want with her?”

“I’ve come to escort her home. Her mother and fiancé are anxious for her to return to Delaware.”

“You her fiancé?” asked Mr. Stone.

Impatience tightened the chiseled features of the stranger’s face, showing he wasn’t appreciative of their questions. “No, sir. My name’s Grissom. As I said, I’ve been sent to safely escort her home.”

He wasn’t dressed like a messenger. He carried himself with the easy stealth of a…
a Morgan
.

“Can you point me in the direction of the Morgan Ranch?” he asked.

“If you was sent,” Mr. Stone said with a scowl, “you should know where you’re going.”

The snipping of fabric halted as a quiet settled over the store.

Grissom smiled.

Not a comforting gesture, Salina noted.

“Good day, then,” he said mildly, sliding his hat on as he turned to leave.

Salina followed him outside. “Mr. Grissom?”

He turned, his lips curling with the hint of a smile. “Madam?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear your mention of Miss Tindale’s fiancé.”

“Yes, ma’am. He’s quite worried about her. Would
you
know the way to the Morgan Ranch?”

“Yes,” Salina said, her mood brightening considerably. “Yes, I do.”

C
hance drove the first five miles surrounded by the sound of wind and horses and the accusations steaming through his mind. Cora Mae didn’t offer any explanations for the scene they’d created in town. Before she’d curled around him and kissed him with enough passion to melt the sun, something had put the fear of God into her. And that
something
wore a fancy gray suit.

“Who is he?”

Wide brown eyes glanced up at him. “Who?”

“The man you were hiding from.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

He bit back a swear word. “Your lies are catching up with you,
Cora
. Why is he after you?”

“Honestly, Chance.”

“If you’re going to talk about honesty, you might try practicing some! The tall fancy man,
who is he?
”

Cora didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to involve him. To acknowledge the way her mother had shamed her would make it all too real. Cora shook her head, blocking the memory from her mind. It was nothing more than a bad dream. She wouldn’t relive it. She’d leave.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Chance jerked the wagon to a stop. Cora stiffened as he set the brake and turned to her.

“You didn’t recognize the man driving the black carriage?”

She shook her head.

Disappointment darkened Chance’s eyes. Her heart clenched. She hated lying to him, hated that he sensed her dishonesty. But just as he’d said about keeping his secrets from Tucker, no good could come from the truth.

“Then I can only assume you must have wanted me to kiss you.” His eyes focused on her mouth.

“
What?
No!”

“Why else would you jump right into my arms, your mouth all but seeking mine.”

“That wasn’t my intent!”

“You didn’t complain while I was kissing you, Cora. In fact, I know damn well you enjoyed it. There’s no shame in admitting you want me.”

Heat rushed to her face. “Chance!”

“What? It’s about time we got it out into the open, and after the way you kissed me in front of half the town, you can’t deny it. I had to
pull you
off me.”

His arms locked around her and hauled her tight against him. “We’re free of onlookers. Or do you prefer an audience?”

“That’s not—”

“Then kiss me.” He bent to her mouth, his eyes hard with anger.

She turned away, his firm grip increasing her fear. “Please stop.”

He turned her face to meet his gaze. The fingers against the back of her neck were gentle yet may as well have been a vise for the hold his gaze had on hers. “You wanted that kiss as much as I did. Admit it.”

“I will not. I was simply…”

“Caught up in the moment?”

The intensity in his eyes frightened her. “Y-yes.”

“The rush of desire, so strong you can’t think? Is that how it is for you?” His thumb brushed her lower lip, sending a tremor through Cora that shook both of them. “You can lie to me all you want, Cora Mae, but your body tells the truth.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can’t fight it.
I’ve tried
.”

“You’re scaring me.”

Chance looked into her eyes and knew, for the moment, that she spoke the truth. She had so much passion in her, enough to burn the two of them, but it didn’t outweigh the fear buried deep in her gaze.

He hissed a curse and let her go.

“What is it with you! You damn near melt into me one moment and then tense up the next. I shouldn’t even want you!” he raged, furious with himself for fighting feelings he shouldn’t have in the first place. “You’ve done nothing but lie to me since you arrived!”

He snapped the reins.

Cora intended to fix that the moment they returned to the ranch. She drew a shuddered breath, her gaze fixed on the mountains in the distance. She recalled Chance’s mention of the trapper woman who knew the mountain passes the way he knew his ranch.

Halfway up the first peak
.

She had money in her pocket. She could get to a railhead without the risk of running into Grissom.

The moment Chance led the team to the stable, Cora rushed up to her room. She was thankful Skylar had taken the children to Margarete’s so that she could ride out with Tucker to look at their stock.

The time it had taken to unload the supplies had felt like an eternity. She wouldn’t waste time with a trunk; there was no time. Skylar would make good use of the yarn. All she needed was her carpetbag and some clothes.

Hastily she packed a few dresses, her hair brush and set of needles. She would pick up a loaf of bread on her way out.

Snapping the bag shut, she turned to leave.

Chance filled her doorway.

She gasped and took a step back.

“Cora?” His eyebrows pinched as his gaze locked on her bag. “What the hell are you doing?”

She tightened her grip on the wooden handle. “I never intended to stay this long.”

“Tell me what you’re running from.”

“I
can’t
.”

“I care about you, damn it! If you’re in trouble, I can help you.”

She shook her head. “I have to go. I can send for my things.”

“Like hell!” He stormed into the room. “Didn’t you hear me?
I care about you
. How many women do you think I’ve said that to?”

“I can’t stay.”

“Cora Mae…tell me it’s not me you fear.”

“It’s not you,” she said on a shallow breath.

“Then stay.”

She stiffened as his hand framed her face. His lips touched hers in the lightest caress, tormenting her with a wild torrent of emotions.

“Can you tell me you don’t feel that?” he asked.

“I don’t want it,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Why not?” His hand moved tenderly through her hair, and Cora felt her resolve slipping, succumbing to the pleading in his gaze as steadily as the hairpins falling to the floor. But she had nothing to offer him, not with the past closing in behind her.

“Please, don’t. Just let me go.”

His fingers tightened in her hair. “I did that once. I’m not about to make the same mistake twice. There was a time when we told each other everything. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help you.”

It was too late. If he found out her mother was alive he’d only hate her all the more. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want any of this.

“Chance…”

“Why can’t you be honest with me?”

“Because honesty doesn’t always fix what’s been wronged!” she shouted, desperate to get away from him. “Did you tell your brother Wyatt nearly killed you?”

“It wouldn’t have served any good. I can deal with Wyatt without starting a war that would hurt everyone else.”

“Exactly.”

His eyes widened with an understanding that only increased her fear. “What are you trying to protect me from, Cora?”

The truth
. She was trying to protect both of them. She didn’t want to deal with the past any more than he did.

She eased away from his light hold. “I have to go.”

Chance glanced past her toward the window. The distant sound of approaching horses filtered into the room.

Oh, God
. Cora’s heart dropped to her stomach at the sight of the black carriage moving along the road lined with fencing, leading toward the front yard. Mr. Grissom snapped his whip to pick up speed.

“I believe you have a caller, Cora Mae.”

Chance glanced back at her and found all the color had drained from her face. Damn if she didn’t look ready to faint. “What does he want with you?”

Her knuckles white on the handle of her carpetbag, she backed toward the door. “Please, Chance, tell him I’m not here.”

“Tell me what he wants with you!”

“He works for my mother!”

“Your
mother?
But…”
The little liar
. “Holy hell.” He’d known she’d been lying from the first day. But he’d softened, he’d let her sweet smiles blow over him like a blinding fog.

“Cora Mae, if your mother put you up to coming out here so she could try and sink her claws into our ranch, you’ll regret the day you stepped foot on it.”

“She’s not after your ranch! It’s
me
she wants.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and, God save him, they tore at his gut. “Why?”

She shook her head. “There’s no time!” She tried to push past him. “Just tell him you haven’t seen me, or that I’ve left.”

He braced his arms on the wall, pinning her in. “Why should I lie for you?”

“Send him away and I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again.”

Not bother him? Didn’t she know what she’d done to him? He was bothered to the root of his soul!

He turned and started for the stairwell. “I won’t lie for you.”

“You promised to protect me,” she shouted, staying on his heels as he descended the stairs.
“You promised!”

Her words echoed through the kitchen and grated over Chance like salt on an open wound. He turned, bringing her up short. “I’m standing right here! I’m through running. From you, your mother—all of it!”

She wasn’t. The past held nothing for her but pain and shame. “Chance,
please
.”

“It’s time to own up, Cora.”

Her heart clenched as he stormed through the dining room. She closed her eyes and silently prayed Mr. Grissom would leave without a fight…and without revealing too much.

Chance jerked open the front door as the tall fancy carriage pulled to a stop. Custom built, Chance observed, noting the ornate carvings of rich wood. The man stepping down from the driver’s seat glistened with the same overpriced polish. His tailored waistcoat and silk necktie spoke of money.

“Afternoon,” Chance called out, walking to the end of the porch.

“Good day, sir. I’m looking for Mr. Morgan?”

“Then you’re in luck. I’m Chance Morgan.”

“Mr. Morgan, I’m searching for Miss Cora Mae Tindale. I’ve been informed she’s staying here.”

“She is.”

Chance heard the hard rush of breath from beyond the open front door. If she had dealings with this man, it was best to get them over with while he
could
protect her, rather than to keep running from him.

“Come on out here, Cora Mae. You’ve got company.”

She inched into the open doorway, her wide eyes dark with fear as she looked out at the man in the yard.

“Miss Tindale,” said Grissom, removing his hat.

“Hello, Mr. Grissom.”

“Your mother has been quite worried about you. I’ve come to escort you back home.”

She stepped beside Chance, trembling like the last leaf of autumn. “I won’t go.”

Grissom flashed a smile that was about as warm as a snake’s belly. “Miss Tindale, I must insist.” He took a step forward. Cora Mae flinched, clearly ready to run.

“That’s far enough,” Chance warned, not liking Grissom’s intimidation tactics.

Grissom paused, his eyes flickering toward Chance’s holstered revolver before meeting his gaze. “Is it your intent to stop me from returning Miss Tindale to her mother?”

“Not at all. Cora Mae is free to come and go as she pleases. But I believe she just declined your invitation.”

Grissom looked back toward the coach, and Chance tensed. God help him if Winifred was inside that carriage.

“Oh, no,” whispered Cora.
“Please, no.”

The sheer terror in Cora Mae’s hushed voice drew Chance’s attention. He didn’t recognize the woman trembling behind him. He heard the carriage door open, but couldn’t look away from the stark fear blackening Cora Mae’s wide eyes.

Chance slid his arm protectively around her trembling shoulders, her expression bringing back a flood of childhood memories; Cora Mae running through the house in a flutter of satin and ruffles, terrified, seeking shelter from her mother’s frequent tirades.

“Come along, Cora Mae.”

Winifred’s familiar crisp voice put a pinch in Chance’s spine. Glancing back at the yard he was disappointed to see that time hadn’t pruned her up as much as he’d hoped. Tall and sleek, she stood with her chin poised high, her posture stiff. Her black dress and black bonnet suited the tight contours of her face. Severe as she looked, it was plain to see she had the makings of a beautiful woman, spoiled by an ugliness that came from within.

“Really, Cora Mae,” she said, disregarding Chance’s presence. “We’ve had quite enough of your foolishness,” she said with calm politeness. “Get down here at once.”

Cora Mae vigorously shook her head, loose curls swaying, her complexion frightfully pale.

“You’ve already created quite a scandal, running off on your engagement night.”

Engagement?

“You had no right!” she shouted. “I won’t marry him.”

Damn right, you won’t!
Chance tightened his hold on her, stunned by the notion.

“Foolish talk,” snipped Winifred. “Of course you will. You should be thankful he is still willing to marry you after the fiasco you’ve caused.”

“The fiasco
I’ve
caused?”

“We have all tired of your games!”

Winifred’s shrill voice increased the fine tremble in Cora Mae’s body.

“Now, get down here and into this carriage at once!”

Chance tucked Cora Mae tight against his side. She wrapped her arm around his back. Her fingers clutched the side of his shirt, and Chance felt an odd sense of possession. They were no longer children at the mercy of this snake of a woman.

“She’s not going anywhere she doesn’t want to go.”

The wrinkles in Winifred’s face increased with her scowl. “Chance.”

“Winifred,” he answered in the same flat tone.

Her lips pursed at the informal title, although not nearly as informal as other titles echoing in the back of his mind.

“Cora Mae, you have burdened your stepbrother long enough.”

“Cora Mae isn’t a burden. She’s a delight. And she’s welcome to stay here as long as she likes.”

Again she ignored him, her gaze remaining fixed on her daughter. “Laird Ambrose Campbell has been quite patient.”

“Laird Ambrose Campbell can take a running leap straight to hell.”