The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides) (9 page)

He hovered above my face for another moment. I
closed my eyes, unable to look at him any longer for fear of my heart giving
out. The brush against my lips was so soft, so gentle, that it might well have
just been a breeze coming through the house and caressing me.

Slowly, I opened my eyes just in time to see Eli’s
lids part and his sky-blue orbs pierced my soul.

And that’s when my helplessness really struck. In
the space of a couple of weeks, I’d gone from adventurous and independent to a
puddle of a girl in this man’s embrace. But there was something comfortable,
something safe, about how he made me feel. Somehow, even without any words, I
knew that as long as I had Eli, nothing could hurt me.

“Biscuits?” he whispered.

I felt my eyes flutter in time with the pounding
of my heart. “Uh-huh,” I answered in a hollow voice. “They’re, uh, right this
way.”

Never in my life had I witnessed a man – any man –
so neatly trim and slice a shank of ham, or butter and arrange left-over
biscuits with such care. His eyes moved back and forth from me to the bread as
he inserted the tip of a kitchen knife and cut three biscuits in half.

“Why three?” It was all I could think to say as he
arranged three thin cuts of ham on the bread.

“I’m a growing boy, Miss Clara.” His eyes twinkled
and I, as usual of late, barely kept myself upright. “Might I trouble you for a
basket?”

The muscles of Eli’s arms and back strained his
shirt’s hard, plaid material. Every line of his body captivated me. I imagined
his hands in my hair, gripping my shoulders and holding me down. Flushing, I
forced myself to return my attention to more proper and present things.

“Basket?”

A half smile curled his lips. Eli cocked an
eyebrow, pulling me out of my stupor with that one simple gesture.

“Of course,” I shook my head. “Basket, yes, right
over here.”

I followed Eli out to the porch, closing the door
behind me. His horse was lashed out front. “Are we going far?”

“No,” he said. “Not too far, just to a little
place outside of town a few miles. Your pa said you’d started keeping the
horses at old Crick’s stable in town, right?”

I nodded. “Oh, no.” A terrible sinking feeling
weighed me down. “I just remembered.”

“What is it? You look like you’ve just seen a dead
man rise from the grave, Miss Clara.” His hand shot to my arm and he squeezed.
Oh did he squeeze.

“No, I’m sorry, it’s just that Father put my horse
in for a shoeing today. I’m afraid we won’t be able to use her.”

Eli pursed his lips. “Well,” he said. “That’s
fine. We’ll just have to share the saddle.”

“Share?” I blushed. “No, that wouldn’t be proper,
Eli, you know that.”

“Hmm. Only other thing I can think of is you can
take Martin here, and I’ll jog along beside. But that’d turn a luncheon into a
half-day of activity. What’re you worried about? I don’t think anyone in
Deadwood, of all places, is going to have their eye out for things a New Yorker
would find improper. You
have
seen the Gem, have you not?”

I giggled behind my hand. “Well yes, but,I’m just
not sure, Eli. What if Father sees?”

“He’s an hour’s ride away, working on his claim.”
Eli’s eyes darkened in thought. “What if I sit astride the saddle, and then you
can recline across my legs sidesaddle? Nothing improprietous about that, I
wouldn’t think.”

“I’m not sure that’s a word, Eli,” I said with a
grin. “I just don’t know. Sitting on your lap? We’re not even married. Even if
we
were
I don’t know if such a thing would be a good idea.”

“I’m afraid, then, we’re at an impasse. I’m fairly
certain those are all words.” He chuckled softly. “And the worst part of all is
that I’m starved.”

“You’re always hungry,” I said with a grin.

I looked back and forth, quickly, smiling despite
my misgivings.

“See?” Eli hopped into the saddle and stuck out
his hand. “All alone. No one will see except you and I. Come on up.”

Eli’s leather riding glove was somehow rough and
soft at the same time. As his fingers closed around mine, and I stepped off the
ground, the whole world seemed to spin around me. The most comfortable way for
me to sit astride Eli’s lap had my head very near his, one of my hands grasping
the reins, and the other with nothing much to do.

“Put that one on my shoulder,” he said as he eased
Martin into a slow trot.

“Ooh! Was that a rock?”

He smiled softly and shrugged. Eli grabbed my hand
and led it to the back of his sun-tanned neck. “See? Hold the reins, just like
that. Good. Been on a horse a time or two? Keep that other hand on my neck. I’m
not gonna let you fall off, and neither is Martin. He’s an older fella, real
gentle.”

I was lost in the ocean of Eli and had no canoe. Somehow,
that was exactly where I wanted to be.

The rest of our ride was rather quiet except for
the sounds of the world around us. There was a certain tension I can’t describe
that kept me from my normal nervous prattling, and Eli constantly occupied
himself looking about at every bird, plant and tree. The slow roll of Martin’s
cantor

“Look over there,” he said as we passed a small
pond.

A smug looking group of multicolored ducks caught
my eye. “What are they? They’re gorgeous.”

“Mallards, but they’re nothing compared to you,
Clara. Fine looking ducks.” It all came out in one breath.

“What did you say?” I asked, knowing full well he
wouldn’t repeat himself. “Do you mind if we stop here? I’d like to watch them.
They’re a funny bunch. Look, that big fat one seems upset!”

One of the ducks began putting on quite a show of
his irritation with another one, quacking wildly and carrying on for a moment.

“You first,” Eli said with a little laugh. “Unless,
of course, you want me to hop off and dump you unceremoniously to the ground.”

He took my hand and held it in his. “No, I don’t
think that would be very pleasant,” I said, refusing to look at Eli for fear of
what I might do.

Slowly, he cradled me by the waist and eased me to
the ground. As soon as my feet touched, I busied myself setting out a blanket
and arranging our meal so I wouldn’t have time to make a fool of myself.

A time later, after we’d settled down and tucked
into our food, I found I could hardly eat. Any time I went to take a bite, I
just watched Eli and then put my sandwich back on the blanket.

“You were serious about that appetite,” I said as
he swallowed the third, and final, bite of his first sandwich and immediately
unwrapped the second.

He smiled, chewing slowly. “Claim working is hard
business for hard men. Your father is doing better than I imagined he would
when I first saw him. I thought he’d wash out like so many others who come this
way with wild visions of gold dancing before their eyes.”

“Father is driven, if nothing else. And there’s
some kind of problem with the bank, though he won’t say what it is.” I finally
took a bite. “Is something wrong?”

A cloud passed in front of Eli’s face. He shook
his head. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it? Nothing bad, I hope?”

“I’m not sure. What I mean is, it
is
bad,
but I’m not sure what to make of the rumors what’re going around. Never been
the sort to have gossip spread about me.” He took another massive bite then
dropped his biscuit. “It’s new for me. I seem to have made an enemy in another
life who has decided that there’s no time like the present to get revenge on me
for something he himself did. He just got caught for it, and blames me over the
mess.”

“Back up,” I said holding a hand out and
inadvertently touching his. “I’m not following. Someone’s out to get you? You
brought me all the way out here and swept me off my feet to tell me someone
doesn’t like you?” My cheeks burned, though I was more irritated with myself
for letting my emotions show in such a display than I was with Eli.

He squeezed my hand. “No, it’s not that at all.”
That easy smile came back. “I just want you to know what’s happening in case I
have to make a hasty retreat. I want you to know that it’s nothing to do with
you. Understand?”

“No, not entirely. For someone who wanted to
explain a situation to me, you’re being awfully vague. I can’t help but think
there’s a reason for it.”

Eli laughed. “Yeah, you could say that.” He took a
deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling it with a long sigh. “All
right, here goes. You remember the Sioux raid I told you about? Took place a
week before we started our trip from Yankton?”

I nodded and waited for him to continue.

“Well, as it happens, Itan led it.”

“What does that have to do with you? You can’t
control your friend.”

“Brother,” he said. “And you’re right. But someone
has it in their mind that I put him up to it. Or rather, someone figured out we
were connected, and wants to hang it on my head so he can get back at me.”

I sat forward on the balls of my feet. “Be clear,
Eli, this sounds serious. That amounts to treason if Eustace tries to hang it
on you.”

“How’d you know it was him?”

“I heard your exchange at the claim. I just
assumed that –”

“Well you’ve got the right of it. We go back, old
Goldtooth and I. We both worked Hearst’s Comstock after the War, you know.”

“I’ve heard such,” I said. “What did he do?”

Eli grimaced. “It’s a long story, longer than I’ll
tell at present. The short version is that he decided to try and sabotage the
Comstock. He wanted to blow out one of the tunnels.”

“What? Wouldn’t that kill a lot of people?”

“He’s not the sort to care. He figured if he could
cave one of the tunnels in, Hearst would be pressured to close down the mine
before it was tapped. He tried to recruit me into his little cabal, with the
intention of buying the mine when Hearst was ruined.”

“So he’s a lunatic?” I cut in.

“And dangerous. Any rate, I told one of the
foremen about it, more out of an interest in keeping my friends safe than in
protecting George Hearst.” He spat. I took his meaning. “So if I get hauled off
to jail, or if I catch wind of that happening and vanish, you know why. You’re
the only one. I couldn’t stand to leave you not knowing.”

“Will I see you again?” I had to stop myself and
collect my thoughts to keep my words from getting jumbled. “If that happens,
I’ll see you again. Tell me I’ll see you again. Please, Eli! Tell me you’ll
come back for me!”

For the second time since he had come to visit, my
emotions got the best of me. It didn’t matter. I needed to know that my heart
wouldn’t vanish with him.

“I promise, Miss Clara. Whatever happens, I’ll
come for you. I, uh, feel rather foolish for laying all that out on you. We’ve
not even known one another for a month, and here I am telling you my deepest
fears. So much for quiet strength, hm?”

“I’m glad you did,” I said. I couldn’t finish my
statement the way I wanted –
I feel the same way, I couldn’t bear to see you
go
– no matter how much I wanted to do just that. So I just smiled.

He stood up and offered me his hand. “I see my
sandwich wasn’t to your liking?”

“Oh, no, it’s not that at all,” I stooped over,
grabbed it and took a big bite to show him.

I finally got to see his smile again. “All right,
Miss Clara, let’s head on back. I’ve got some business to attend.”

Gracefully he pulled me back into the saddle,
across his lap.

“Say it again, Eli,” I whispered after a few
minutes of silent trotting. “I need to hear you say it again. Tell me that if
anything happens that I don’t have to worry about you coming back for me.”

His eyes caressed my face and settled on my lips.
“Never,” he said. “Nothing could keep me away from you. I can’t say why, I
can’t say how, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life, Clara
James. No matter what happens, I won’t leave you wondering.”

Eli’s words were slightly vague, but there was nothing
clearer than what happened next. He let Martin slow to a stop, dropped the
reins and wrapped both his arms around me. “I’ll be back for you. If I leave,
I’ll be back.” He closed his eyes, and I closed mine.

Warmth spread from where his lips touched mine,
and trickled all the way to my fingertips. He held me tight, close against his
chest, and penetrated my very soul with his kiss. What seemed like an hour
later, he pulled away, and studied my face.

“Promise?” I asked before he kissed my cheek, then
my lips a second time, harder and deeper.

“Words can lie,” he whispered. “But...”

I held his face between my hands. “But what, Eli?”

“But love never does. Love,” he pressed his lips
to mine again, running his fingers through my hair. “Love never lies.”

September 22, 1878

Deadwood, Dakota Territory

––––––––

“F
ather, is that Mr. Bullock? He seems quite
bothered by something.”

It was just past noon, and Father had taken the
day away from the claim to handle some business with the bank. Of course, he wouldn’t
say what it was, but when he was finished, we found our way to the single inn’s
luncheon buffet only moments before Mr. Bullock tromped toward the door.

“Where’s Eli?” he said, resting his hands on our
table.

Father regarded him with a bit of surprise. “Good
afternoon to you, Sheriff Bullock.”

“I apologize. I forget my manners on a near
constant basis. Afternoon Mr. James, Miss James.” Whatever bothered him, I knew
it was serious when he neglected to kiss my hand.

Immediately, my thoughts went back to the last
time I saw Eli. I grabbed my elbows, not feeling terribly well.

“All right,” Father said. “Now, what is it you
need with Mr. Masterson? I haven’t seen him since, oh, a day ago? Tuesday,
must’ve been. Is something the matter?”