“One thousand dollars is a lot of reason to stay,” Nick coaxed.
“It surely is.” She paused and asked the question foremost in her mind. “What would I have to
do
for this money?”
“Just stay here and go about your days as you normally would. It won’t take long for Frank to figure out where he can find his gold.”
“But I don’t know where the gold is!”
“He doesn’t know that.”
She hesitated. She realized for the first time that Nick believed her about the gold. A part of her heart softened. “You really believe me about the gold?”
His gaze held hers. “Yes.”
For an instant she thought she might cry. She gazed out the window at the sunshine.
Nick stepped toward her. “Think of all the dresses you could buy for yourself and Rose.”
Ellie laughed at such a silly notion. She faced him. “I’m not wasting my thousand dollars on dresses.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve never known a woman who didn’t like pretty things. What would you spend the money on if not dresses?”
She didn’t have to think about her answer. “I’d give half to Annie right off the top. Lord knows where Rose and I would be if not for her. And with the balance, I’d move into Thunder Canyon. I’d open a café.”
He stared at her with sharp interest. “A café in Thunder Canyon. Why would you leave here?”
“Annie’s got a beau named Mike. He’ll be offering for her hand soon, if I don’t miss my guess. A newly married couple doesn’t need Rose and me hanging around. They’ll need their privacy and we’ll need to make a permanent home for ourselves.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to marry than to open a business?”
Typical man. She laughed. “If I’m going to break my back working each day, I’ll keep the profits for myself.”
He straightened. “So you accept my deal? Work with me and you’re one thousand dollars richer.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. “I feel as if I’m bargaining with the devil.”
He laughed. “I’ve been called worse.”
One thousand dollars was a fortune. And she didn’t have to sell her body.
One thousand dollars.
It was just the start she needed to change her life. “All right, I’ll take a chance on you.”
He held out his hand. “Shake on it.”
She hesitated, staring at his long fingers. She’d have been happy not to touch him at all because, honestly, she didn’t trust herself one bit. But the challenge that sparked in his eyes prodded her to raise her hand and clasp his.
His large hand swallowed her small fingers. He squeezed her hand, shaking once. A jolt of energy shot up her arm. Her breath grew shallow and her pulse thrummed so loudly in her chest it was a wonder Nick didn’t hear it. “And all I have to do is just wait with you? Nothing more?”
“Nothing more.” He grinned. “Unless you
want
something more.”
She snatched her hand back as if she’d been scalded. “Oh, no, all I want is the money.”
He laughed. “A woman after my own heart. Deal?”
“Deal.”
T
HE SUN
had set. Ellie had cleaned the kitchen and fed Rose. Nick sat in one of the twin rockers near the hearth. Lantern light glowed, creating shadows on the whitewashed walls.
Ellie took her knitting box and sat in the empty rocker across from Nick. She was making a sweater for Rose.
This was the quiet time of day when the hard chores were done and she could sit by the fire for an hour or so before she climbed into bed. Most nights she did light mending, knitted or played checkers with Annie.
However tonight, as she sat across from Nick, a sudden restlessness took root, spreading through her. And the edginess had nothing to do with the prospect of the one thousand dollars.
He stared at his book, seemingly lost in its pages. Yet she was very aware of the way his long fingers cupped the soft leather, the rise and fall of his chest
and the hair that curled in the V of his shirt, buttoned up to within inches of his collarbone.
Ellie dropped a stitch. Cursing her clumsiness, she recaptured the yarn on the needle. She finished the row but found tracking the stitches a struggle.
She glanced at Nick. He wasn’t reading. He was staring at her. Unrepentant, he lowered his gaze back to the pages.
Quickly she returned her focus to her knitting. Her heart pounded in her chest. She dropped another stitch and recovered it only to let it slip again.
She peeked at Nick again. She realized then that he’d not turned any pages. Neither of them could concentrate.
Struggling to fill the silence that only stoked her restlessness, she said, “Do you read every night?”
Nick’s blue eyes looked into hers. “Just about.”
His attention made her mouth feel as dry as the desert. “What do you read?”
“See for yourself.” He closed the book and handed it to her.
She set her knitting down and accepted the book. His fingers brushed hers. Her pulse tripped.
The book’s binding was smooth and fine. She thumbed through the pages, trying to hide the quake in her fingers. The letters were very, very small. “What’s it about?”
“A famous general.”
She closed the book and handed it back to him. Their fingers touched again and a frizzle of energy shot up her arm. Her cheeks burned. “It’s a fine-looking book, just like the other one.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
She shrugged. “Remember, I went through your saddlebag when you were unconscious.”
“Ah, I forgot.”
He didn’t seem angry, so she continued. “The other one is written in a different language.”
“That book is written in Latin.”
She started to knit a new row. “What’s that?”
“It’s a dead language, spoken by people who lived long ago.”
She shook her head as she knitted a few more stitches. “Why would anyone care about a language no one speaks anymore?”
“The ancient teachers had much to offer.”
Ellie stared at him as if he’d grown a third eye. “You’re a puzzle to me, Nick Baron. You look meaner than any outlaw I’ve ever seen and yet you read better than the smartest teacher in Butte.” The question that had plagued her since the moment she’d found the photo welled inside her. “Is it because Crystal and your baby died?”
A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. “Always direct.”
“Best way to be if you want folks to know what you’re after.”
For a moment he was silent and she thought perhaps he’d forgotten her question. Then he seemed to come to a decision. “I had trouble with the law back East.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised.”
He lifted his chin. “It wasn’t all my fault.”
She met his gaze. “It never is.”
To her surprise, he laughed.
“Touché.”
“What happened?”
His smile faded, replaced by a look of acceptance and resolve. “I nearly beat my older brother Gregory to death. I was charged with attempted murder.” His voice was edged in steel.
“Why?” she said, her voice as soft as a prayer.
He set his book down on the small side table by his rocker. “We competed constantly when we were growing up. Gregory’s mother was my father’s first wife. When she died and Father remarried my mother, Gregory never felt as if he belonged and he resented me and the attention my father gave me.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“Don’t fool yourself, I was just as competitive as he was. In my younger days, I had a need to best him
in everything. When he joined the army, I had to do the same. The rivalry between us grew ugly when I started to rise through the ranks faster than he did. Gregory started drinking and his drunkenness ended up getting him court-martialed. He returned home bitter and angry. His drinking didn’t improve and then our father changed his will. He left the lion’s share of the family lands to me and our sister Julia instead of Gregory. It wasn’t personal. Father knew Gregory would never be happy managing the lands, whereas I would gladly return after my military service ended.”
He tapped his long finger on the armrest of the rocker. “Soon after Father’s announcement, I was stationed in Kansas. The territory was dangerous and the Indian wars at their height. Crystal stayed behind in Virginia.” His eyes darkened. “While I was gone, Gregory seduced my wife. She became pregnant. I returned home almost a year to the day from when I’d left. She’d died the day before, giving birth.”
“How did you know it was Gregory?”
“I found Crystal’s diary. She confessed the affair and her plans to send the child away before I returned. I got blinding drunk and went after him.”
“You sound so calm when you talk about this.”
A raw intensity radiated from his body. “Don’t be
fooled. There was a time when the anger burned so fierce it nearly consumed me. I’d have gladly killed Gregory if my sister Julia hadn’t stumbled upon us and begged me to see reason.”
“You said you had trouble with the law.”
“Gregory recovered and pressed charges. He’d have seen me rot in jail if my father hadn’t interceded. The charges were dropped on the condition I never return to Virginia. In the end Gregory got what he wanted—his inheritance.”
“And so you came West?”
“I was a soldier and good at hunting men. When I arrived in Denver, there was a reward posted for a man wanted for stealing. I tracked him down and brought him in to the authorities. I collected the reward. It seemed a good way to make money, so I followed the trail of another wanted man. He led me to Montana. Ever since, there’s always been someone new to track.”
“Sounds like you’ve led an interesting life. You’ve seen so many places. All I’ve ever seen is Butte and the Spring Rock station.”
“I am not that interesting. In fact, I am a bit of a cliché.”
“Cliché? What’s that?”
“A story everyone has heard a thousand times. The solider cuckolded by his wife.”
“You’re not the first man and you won’t be the last.”
“It will never happen to me again. I will never let a woman twist me around her finger like Crystal did.”
A long silence stretched between them. “Why did you tell me all this?” she said.
“I don’t want there to be any secrets or surprises between us when we make love.”
Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it closed, amazed at his arrogance. “How do you know we
even
are?”
“I know.”
“I’m not the least bit interested in you.”
“Yes, you are,” he said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.
“This is insane.” She rose, feeling suddenly warm. “I’m going to bed.”
“Want company?”
“No!” She ran to her room and closed the door. But instead of going to bed, she pressed her ear against the door, listening for any signs that he had followed her.
His purposeful footsteps crossed the main room. They paused in front of her door and then, after a long moment, started up the stairs toward the second-floor room he’d claimed.
She squeezed her eyes shut. To her amazement, she realized she was disappointed he hadn’t knocked on her door.
E
LLIE SHOULD HAVE BEEN
exhausted when she climbed into her own bed that night. But she wasn’t. Worries about Nick twisted inside her. The ceiling above her head creaked with his footsteps as he paced. He couldn’t sleep, either.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the plank ceiling. It struck her then that she
wanted
Nick with a power so fierce it rattled her like a bucking bronco.
Ellie had never been with a man before, but she wasn’t a prissy miss, either. She knew what a man and woman did in bed. And she knew it wasn’t always about business for the women. She’d heard the girls giggling and whispering about what they’d done.
She’d never felt any desire for a man before. And she’d come to believe she was immune to such feelings—which had always been just fine. She didn’t want to be like her mother and the other women at the Silver Slipper.
But this desire for Nick was singing in her veins. It was changing her—making her want things she’d never wanted before. The change frightened her.
Ellie rolled onto her side and stared at the patches
of her quilt. She considered counting each of the tiny stitches that surrounded each square. She sighed. It would be hours before sleep came. She rolled onto her back.
A crash outside had her sitting up in bed. Suddenly her heart was pounding in her chest. She tossed back the covers and sprang out of bed.
Nick’s footsteps pounded down the stairs as she lit a lantern and hurried into the center of the cabin.
Nick had strapped on his holster and was checking the bullets in the chamber of his gun.
“Do you think it’s Frank?”
Lantern light glowed on the hard edges of his face. “I don’t know. Kill that light.”
Ellie blew out the flame. The darkness surrounded them. “I wasn’t expecting him this soon.”
“I was.”
He strode across the cabin as if it were the middle of the day. He pushed back the red-checked curtain with the tip of his pistol, allowing moonlight to shine inside the cabin.
Ellie stepped forward. Her hip bumped into the corner of the kitchen table. She winced and set her lantern down on the table. “Can you see anything?”
“No.”
“Should I get my gun?” she said.
“No!”
Nerves had her chattering. “I would think Frank wouldn’t make so much noise. Are you sure it’s not an animal?”
He sighed. “All I can hear right now is you talking.”
“Sorry.”
Nick stared out the window. Time dragged. Finally he stood and took the latch off the front door.
“Where are you going?”
“To greet our visitor.” He opened the door.
Shadows flitted across the front porch. A chill hovered in the air and a ring of mist circled the full moon.
Another crash to their right had Nick turning with lightning speed. He took a step outside and Ellie trailed behind, hovering close to him.
They peeked around to the side porch. Moonlight shone on a bear cub sitting in the bathtub on the front porch. The animal lay on its back, its overlarge paws thrust in the air. When it saw Nick, it scrambled out of the tub and ran off into the dark.
Nick straightened his shoulders, obviously relieved. He guided Ellie back inside. When the door was closed and latched, he holstered his gun. “Cubs can get into all kinds of mischief.”
Ellie moved beside Nick and peered out the side window. Her nerves still hummed from the bear’s un
expected arrival. “Annie said they are cute but dangerous. She said they can travel in pairs.”
“With their mothers close by.”
His warm breath brushed her skin. She couldn’t move.
“Very fierce, no doubt,” she said, exhaling, her voice traveling with her breath. Strength radiated from Nick’s body. Ellie found it intoxicating to stand this close to him.
The excitement was over. They could have returned to their beds. But neither moved.
Her nipples hardened and pushed against the coarse fabric of her nightgown. She moistened her dry lips with her tongue. His scent enveloped her.
Drawn by an unseen force, Ellie looked up at him. He was staring down at her, his chiseled face barely visible in the moonlight. His lips looked full, inviting.
A small scar ran down the right side of his chin. Guided by unfulfilled desires, she traced the mark with the tip of her finger. His unshaven jaw scraped her skin. This simple touch thrilled her more than she could have imagined.
He tensed but didn’t move away from her.
Her heart slammed against her chest. “How did you get that scar?”
“I was a young boy,” his said, his voice a hoarse
whisper. “I snuck into my father’s study to see his new dagger. I’d removed it from its sheath and was studying the tip when my father walked into the study. I jumped and cut myself.”
She resisted the urge to touch his lips. “Was he angry?”
He captured her hand in his strong fingers. “Not when he saw all the blood gushing from the wound.”
She edged a half step closer to him. “You carry a fine dagger in your saddlebag.”
“It’s the same one.”
“Did you get into a lot of trouble when you were a boy?”
A small smile lifted the edges of his mouth. “No more than my share.”
Her gaze settled on his lips. She wondered if he kissed her, whether the kiss would be chaste or demanding. She suspected the latter—Nick Baron wasn’t a man who did anything halfway.
She didn’t have to wait long for her answer.
As if he’d read her mind, he leaned his head forward and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment she stood very still, stunned by his touch. So gentle.
The tender kiss might have satisfied her curiosity, but it also stoked new, hotter fires inside her. She rose up on tiptoe and deepened the kiss.
Nick reacted immediately. He banded his arm
around her waist and pulled her to him. His hard chest pressed against her breasts. The stubble of his beard rubbed her chin. Every nerve in her body danced with a newfound vigor.
Their bodies molded together as if they’d been made for each other. Kissing him felt so good. Her body sang. Her head swam. She wanted
more
of him.
Ellie fisted handfuls of his shirt between her fingers. A soft mew escaped her throat. Even to her own ears, she sounded desperate and hungry.