Wicked Wyoming Nights (45 page)

The darkening sky convinced Eliza rain was likely and she must find shelter for herself and some way to secure her mule; if it wandered off she would never get back to town. Already her shoes were badly torn and blisters were forming on her feet, but to her surprise, she didn’t feel like she wanted to cry or give up. She was furious with herself for having no more ability to distinguish landmarks than the rankest tenderfoot, and afraid of what might happen to her during the long night, but she was keenly alert and spilling over with energy.

The first thing she had to do was find a stream. Both she and her mount needed water. Eliza remounted, but she had gone only a short distance when she saw a man suddenly appear atop the crest of a distant hill and ride swiftly along its ridge. She was of two minds whether to attract his attention, but common sense told her she’d most likely be better off with a stranger than sleeping in the open. She applied the reins to her mount’s rump, dug her heels into its sides, and set off hoping to intercept the rider before he could disappear.

But he saw her long before she was within calling distance and pulled up; then seeing her progress was slow, he galloped in her direction.

“Miss Sage,” Royce exclaimed upon getting close enough to recognize her, for it was the same cowboy who had terrified Eliza at the creek. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Getting lost,” admitted Eliza, trying not to show her tremendous relief. “I was given the most careful directions, but all these ridges and canyons look alike. I can’t find the road I was assured would take me to the ranch without any possibility of a wrong turn.”

“You’re too far south. You should have turned at the red butte.”

“That’s what I tried to do, but every butte I passed was the same rusty orange. Not one of them looked the least bit red.”

Royce laughed. “I guess they
do
look alike. Never mind. Come with me.” He looked inquisitively at the jennet. “Why are you riding a mule?”

“Every horse in town was already taken by somebody rushing off to the Bar-T Ranch.”

Royce’s mood changed swiftly. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“I know, but I have an important message for Mr. Stedman, and I was told he was at the Bar-T” The boy’s face grew stern.

“Mr. Stedman won’t have any part of that fight. He says if those fools want to kill each other, who’s he to try and stop them.”

“Certainly a practical point of view, but not very civic-minded.”

“There ain’t nobody takes an interest in Mr. Stedman unless they want something from him. The rest of the time one side tries to steal his cattle with the help of the law, and the other side tries to take them without. But he beat them both, and now he’s so powerful they’re both after his help. Mr. Stedman said they got into this mess by themselves, so they could get themselves out.” Royce continued to deliver more opinions than Cord had been known to express in a lifetime, and Eliza had begun to wonder just where truth and fiction met when they topped a rise and the Matador came into view.

“Do you mean I was barely a mile away all the time, and I was already trying to figure out how to get through the night without freezing?”

“You’d be more likely to catch pneumonia,” said Royce, pointing to the deep purple sky and the stirring tree limbs. “We’re in for some rain.”

“I’d race you to the house, but I don’t think this poor beast could stay on her feet that long.”

“I’m surprised you managed to get this far,” Royce said with the natural scorn of a cowboy for anything other than a true cow pony, but the mule had borne Eliza faithfully and she gave it a friendly pat on the neck.

The rain started before they reached the house, and Ginny greeted a dripping Eliza with such loud exclamations Cord emerged from his office to discover the cause of the commotion.

Eliza heard the sound of his boots on the polished wood floors and she froze. Without looking up she knew it was Cord; the electricity of his presence was unmistakable. For a split second she panicked, afraid of what he might do, of what she might see in his eyes, but when she looked up, there was none of the hardness she feared. Inexplicably, there was the same warm smile of invitation, the same look of hunger, that same quiet, unconquerable strength; there were no questions, just acceptance.

“I got lost,” she said, losing control over her brain. His fixed gaze, his absolute immobility, further unhinged her. “Then I got wet, which seemed an unnecessary reminder not to travel the plains at night.”

“You’ve got to get out of those wet things this minute,” Ginny said, cutting off any response Cord might have made. “I’ll have the food heated and back on the table before you can turn around. Nothing of mine will fit you, but some of Susan’s things are still here.” Apparently Susan had also given Ginny a more favorable view of Eliza because there was none of the anger Ginny had displayed earlier.

Eliza followed Ginny up the stairs in a daze. Outside the thunder crashed around the house, lighting up the hills so often it seemed almost day. The rain came down in torrents, causing Eliza to remember the supperless young man at the Bar-T Ranch who had helped her and to hope he had found shelter for the night.

But she had few thoughts for anyone else tonight except the huge, silent man waiting downstairs who could grant or deny all that she had ever wanted. There was little to do beyond dry her hair and try to make the borrowed dress look as though it fit her, yet she lingered over her preparations, putting off the final moment when she would come face to face with Cord. What could she say? How should she tell him of her change of heart?

He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her. The aromas coming from the steaming dishes momentarily distracted her attention from his powerful presence and radiating sexuality, but it didn’t take her long to take the edge off her hunger, and when Ginny placed coffee on the table and disappeared to the kitchen, she could delay no longer.

“I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing out there alone,” she began.

“No.” That monosyllable threw her thoughts into disarray. Was his love so completely dead he was no longer interested in what happened to her?

“I suppose I deserve that, especially after the way I treated you in town last week. I was angry, but I guess you knew that. I wouldn’t blame you if you never cared what happened to me again.”

“I’ll always care what happens to you,” Cord said, in the same even, contained voice Eliza had come to dislike. Why couldn’t he lose control just once? Why did he have to maintain that Spartan front while she made a fool of herself? “I don’t care what brought you here as long as you’re here.”

“I can’t stay,” Eliza said foolishly, knowing the dark and the rain made the trip back to town utterly out of the question.

“I’ve imagined us sitting like this, discussing the little things that happened during the day, knowing tomorrow and the day after would be the same.”

Eliza swallowed too much of her coffee and burned her throat. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Uncle Ira,” she said, keeping her head lowered.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does. This is terribly hard for me to say so please don’t stop me until I finish. I’m not sure I’ll get it said if I stop.”

Cord nodded agreement.

“I was terribly confused and upset when you had Uncle Ira arrested. When he admitted his guilt, I was humiliated. Then you dragged me out to that corral and proved he was nothing but a common thief.” Eliza shuddered at the memory. “I couldn’t face that, and in my agony I struck out at you. You had done this to me, you had forced me to admit I was nothing but a cheap saloon singer and the niece of a common thief. I fell into a fit of self-pity and took it out on you. But you accepted every mean thing I did without a word of complaint, and I was so miserable that when the theatrical agent arrived, I made up my mind to leave Buffalo.”

“What theatrical agent?” asked Cord, breaking his barely held silence.

“The one Lucy sent for. When you walked in, I knew I wanted to tell him I was going to stay and marry a big, stoic cowboy. But you left with Iris, and I was sure you didn’t love me any longer. When I tried to tell you I was sorry your mother had died, I was sure of it. That’s when Lucy told me I’d better make up my mind what I wanted.”

“And did you?” Cord asked, a good bit of his stoic calm gone.

“I didn’t have to,” she said, looking up with a smile. “I fell in love with you the day you stopped those boys from burning our wagon, and even though I’ve acted like a fool, nothing has changed my mind.”

Cord was out of his chair and dragging Eliza into a crushing embrace before she had time to rise to her feet. She laughed and cried at the same time, but she clung to him with equal desperation, hardly able to believe his arms were around her once again, hardly able to credit how wonderful it felt.

“If Ella hadn’t stopped me, I would have swooped down and carried you away.”

“You should have. I would have been furious, but I think I would have recovered more quickly.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Don’t ever ask me that again. Don’t let me have room for doubts. Fill my mind with so many wonderful memories nothing can ever make me leave you again.”

“I’m glad you two have finally made up your differences” Ginny said, entering the dining room wearing a broad grin of satisfaction. “But what with being worn out and soaked to the skin, it’s time Miss Smallwood went to bed. We don’t want her sick on our hands and her uncle at the door accusing us of trying to murder her.”

Cord let her go, but no more reluctantly than Eliza wanted to go. The brief moments had hardly been enough to reassure her everything was well between them at last. Everything within her cried out to return to his embrace, to nestle in the safety of his arms, but Ginny stood in their way.

“Don’t stand gawking at each other. I’ve got her clothes laid out. It’s time I got home to my own bed or you’ll have Franklin up here looking for me. You two will have plenty of time to talk tomorrow.”

Eliza allowed herself to be ushered upstairs, feeling as though ropes were tied to her body trying to pull her down again. Ginny was kind and helpful, but she talked too much; Eliza wanted to savor the few, brief moments she had been allowed with Cord, and to look forward to tomorrow and the many days to follow.

When at last she was safely tucked in, the lights were out, and Ginny was gone, she found her thoughts were too chaotic to sort out. Her mind was like a whirlwind, everything inside it being blown about at such a speed she couldn’t grasp hold of anything. She didn’t know how long she lay there, unable to think, unable to sleep, when the door to her room opened silently and the well-known silhouette filled the opening. As if by a miracle, her mind cleared and she knew exactly what she wanted.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said softly, and drew back the covers to welcome Cord into her arms.

There was no time for words; there was no need for them. Their bodies spoke more eloquently than words of their longing for each other, of the lightness of their love. The passion they had held in check burst its bonds and carried them away with the swiftness of a flash flood racing down a narrow canyon. Eliza’s whole body felt buffeted and bruised, like a raft going over a waterfall. The stinging pang of need and the painful release of months of tension were transformed by the blissful feel of his body against hers, of his lips and hands caressing her with feverish intensity, of his raging need of her, and her body exploded in a star-burst of aching desire.

Cord could not wait to tease her senses into bloom, to bring her slowly and tantalizingly to full sensual enjoyment of their union; he flung himself at her like floodwater at a boulder, wrapping himself around her, burying her in his surging, tumultuous need to reach his destination. He drove into her with knifing strokes, catapulting them toward a ragged, jarring release. It did not satisfy and it did not relieve, but it destroyed the ugliness between them and left them free to begin again.

“Iris was right,” Cord said when he at last lay quiet beside her. “The third time was lucky.”

“How can you he next to me and talk about another woman?” she asked rolling up on one elbow. She playfully punched him in the side and he chuckled.

“Iris thought she was talking about herself, after you and Eugenia, but she didn’t know the first love of my life was my mother. She was the first woman to turn her back on me.” Eliza felt his body grow less pliant under her caressing fingertips. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, she waited for him to tell her what he wanted her to know.

“She was very beautiful, almost as beautiful as you, but very unhappy. My father owned a small hardware store he’d inherited from his father and he needed Mother to work with him. For a while she was content, but soon after I was born her desire for pretty things drove my father to enlarge the store. He was killed in a fall from the roof. Mother had to work very hard to make a living by herself. We moved in with Grandpa, but she became discontented. I remember her warm and soft, clinging to me when she was most unhappy. Then a man came through town and filled her head with stories of the stage. The last memory I have is her telling me she was going on a trip and I was to be sure to obey Grandpa and not get into trouble. She ran away that night and none of us ever saw her again. She wrote a few letters at first, telling of her success and enclosing a little money for me, but soon those stopped and we heard nothing.