Outlaw for Christmas (9781101573020) (7 page)

“Groom,” she snapped. “Where's Tim?”

“One of the horses ran off toward the creek. He took a mount and went to chase him down.”

She nodded absently. Her earlier agitation had flown, her more recent annoyance fading fast. As she came close once again, Noah stilled.

Before he could back away, she caught both his hands and squeezed them tight when he would have pulled away. “I don't care about my dress,” she whispered. “I don't care about my shoes or my feet or anything but you.”

This was what he'd stayed to put a stop to. She had to see that though they may have started on the same train, they'd arrived at different destinations. Because he cared for her, he would make sure that she didn't waste her life waiting for his train to catch up with hers. Because it never would.

“You shouldn't be out here. You should be in there dancing with all the big bugs.”

“But I don't want to dance with them.” She went on tiptoe and brushed her mouth across his. The tiny kiss weakened Noah's knees. “I want to dance with you.”

She laid her head upon his chest. Her hair brushed his chin, the scent of crushed lilacs released. Her arms went around his waist. Noah's heart rolled over, one slow, painful lurch, and he was lost.

“I can't dance,” he murmured.

“I don't care about that, either.”

Into the silence Dog blubbered an opinion between loose lips. Noah ignored him. What did a horse know?

At any rate, he could think of nothing but the perfect way Ruth fit against him. Why he was here, what he'd meant to prove, faded in the wonder of Ruth. Noah couldn't stop himself; he embraced her, and when the music from the party drifted through the half-open doorway and she swayed in time with the beat, he couldn't help but sway along with her.

“We'll take a cup of kindness yet for auld lang syne,” she sang, and her breath caressed his throat, making him shiver.

Noah tightened his arms about her back, shifting her against him. Perhaps the evidence of his desire would frighten her, though somehow he doubted it.

He was right. She merely snuggled closer, arousing him further.

The music died. A strange, waiting silence followed. “That's the last song of the year,” she murmured. “Listen.”

From far away came the muted bong of a clock.

“Happy New Year!”

“Here's to 1878!”

“Good-bye 1877!”

“And many more!”

Ruth raised her head. He was stunned by the radiant joy of her smile. “Happy New Year, Noah.”

Since he couldn't speak, he kissed her instead, and then he couldn't seem to stop.

She clung to him, opened to him, met him, lips and teeth and tongue. He tore the foolish pink net from her hair and tossed it into the muck.

As he kissed her chin, suckled her earlobe, and traced the hard line of her collarbone to the swell of her breasts, he murmured, “What fool dressed you in pink? Berry red and evergreen, satin on your skin.”

The blue stone bumped against his lips, as cold as he'd imagined. He considered ripping it from her throat but tossed the chain over her shoulder instead.

“Garnets and emeralds, Ruth. Flame through the trees.”

His chin scraped the swell of her breast, and she gasped. “I'm sorry.” He raised his head. “I'm too rough.”

She grabbed his head and yanked him back where he had been. “Shut up, Noah,” she said through gritted teeth, then feathered her fingers through his hair and held on as he traced her breasts with his lips, then dipped his tongue into their core.

She moaned and shuddered in his arms. He
had
to stop. How foolish was this? He'd meant to show her why the princess and the groom could never be together, not titillate her with the promise of forbidden pleasures.

The princess might tumble the groom. However, Noah wasn't really a groom; he was much lower than that. And by touching Ruth he could ruin more than her reputation.

Noah lifted his head, shook off her hands, then pressed his cheek to hers. “Hush,” he murmured. “You're worth more than this. I'm not going to take you in the hay, Princess.”

She trembled in his arms. Had he shocked her at last?

“Even if I want you to?”

Shocked himself, Noah pulled back. Was there nothing he could do to her that would make her see just how ridiculous the two of them together would be?

Her clear green eyes stared into his. She wasn't frightened. Far from it. She pressed her body along the length of his, too close for Noah's comfort. He stepped away. She followed, and he held out a hand to stop her. “Not even if you beg me to.”

She raised her eyebrows. “No tumbling the groom?
Darn.
And that's the only reason I came out here.”

“I don't think you're funny.”

“Neither do I.” She sighed. “Why
are
you here, Noah?”

“You said your father needed help. I applied for the job.”

She touched his side. “You're healed?”

His skin jumped; his body tightened in response. “Well enough.”

He wanted to move away again, but she'd only follow. Her fingers stroked him through his shirt; her palm cupped his side. Since this was the last time he'd ever see her, he let the pleasure roll over and through him, hoping to remember her touch throughout the rest of his short, lonely life.

“Let me see.” Her fingers plucked at the buttons of his shirt.

“No!”

He shoved at her hands. If she started poking him, flesh to flesh, he'd be poking her quickly enough. He only had so much self-control, and it was nearly gone.

She smiled, a woman's smile that said she knew how she affected him. When had Ruth learned to smile like that? “Did you tell my father who you are?”

He started and gave her a wary look. “Who am I?”

“My friend from the train. Who else?”

He couldn't tell her; all he could do was leave her. Dear God, he didn't want to, but for her own good, he would.

And he'd leave her with the memory of a gentle kiss, the kind of kiss a woman like Ruth deserved, the kind he'd yet to give her.

His hand was so large and she was so small that his fingers curled around the top of her head when his palm cupped her chin. For a moment, he stared at her, trying to replace the memory of the child with that of the woman. As if he'd have any trouble remembering the woman Ruth had become.

A puzzled expression filled her eyes. She must have sensed good-bye. Her mouth opened, and he lowered his head, silencing any protest with his lips.

The beast inside raged, thirsting to plunder, to take and not give. When was the last time he'd kissed a woman with no intention of having her all night long?

That would be . . . never. But no woman had ever been Ruth.

She probed the seam of his lips with her tongue. When he would not open for her, she nipped him, and the animal within howled. Raising his other hand, Noah captured her face, held her still, and brushed their mouths together, then nibbled at the corners until she sighed his name.

Noah's lips curved. That was how one kissed a princess.

Slowly, he raised his head. Her eyes closed, her face dreamy, she looked the way a young woman should look after her first gentle embrace. He could leave her like this. It would be hard, but he could do it.

“Ruth, I—”

She opened her eyes. Fury flared. “Don't,” she said, low and furious. “Don't you dare!”

He'd been foolish to think she'd let him leave without a fight, though his sweet, gentle Ruth had never seemed the type
to
fight. The next moment proved he'd been foolish about more than just Ruth.

The distinctive sound of a shotgun being cocked split the silence in the barn. “Step away from her, mister, before I put a hole in you so wide the barn door will seem small.”

Noah should have known his life could never be this good or this easy. The siren call of Ruth had kept him in Kelly Creek too long.

He shot a glance at his Colts, looped over Dog's stall door—too far away to do any good even if he would have dared use them with Ruth anywhere near.

Raising his hands, Noah stepped away from Ruth as ordered and turned, careful to keep her behind him.

The man in the doorway did not look as if he had come to dance at a ball. From the shotgun in his hand to the tin star on his coat and the expression on his haggard face, he looked like a sheriff who had just found his outlaw.

Chapter Six

Noah stared down the barrel of a shotgun. It wasn't the first time. He raised his gaze to the sheriff's, trying to take the measure of the man. Would he kill Noah in front of Ruth? Would he even ask Noah's name before he shot him?

In the Kansas Noah had come to know, the lawmen were often as rough as the outlaws they hunted. If one thought he could collect a bounty from a dead body, it didn't matter if the body turned in was the one the bounty was offered for, which made a man's name pretty much irrelevant.

But the expression in this lawman's eyes gave Noah pause. He didn't appear triumphant. He appeared furious and . . . something else. Noah couldn't figure out what. He'd never seen an expression like that turned his way before.

“Leon!” Ruth tried to push Noah out of the way. He wouldn't go. “Put that gun down.”

The man ignored her, continuing to stare at Noah.

“Ruth, go in the house,” Noah ordered. He didn't plan to die in front of her if he could help it. Damn him to hell and gone for staying this long and bringing violence to her barn.

“I will not!” She scooted from behind him, then danced out of his grasp. “Leon Harker, I will not have you holding a gun on my guest.”

“I'm the groom,” Noah corrected.

Ruth gave a flippant wave of her hand in his direction as she continued to address Harker. “What's gotten into you?”

The sheriff lowered the gun, which shocked Noah enough to gape. “I come home and find some stranger pawing my fianceé and you want to know what's gotten into me?”

“I'm not your fianceé, and he wasn't pawing me.”

“Then why did you say, ‘Don't you dare!'?”

Ruth put her hands on her hips. “How long were you standing there?”

Not very long, Noah figured. If the man had seen where Noah's mouth had been five minutes ago, Noah would have had that barn door-sized hole in his back four minutes by now. And if the sheriff knew who he was, the man would never have lowered the gun.

Noah was safe—for the moment. But it would only be so long before something or someone connected him to Billy Jo Kansas. No one had ever seen his face, but that didn't mean they hadn't seen his eyes, his hands, his horse. He could drift and not be recognized, but stay in one place too long and he was asking for trouble. Hell, he was asking to die.

While some days he'd be happy to, today he didn't want to die in front of Ruth.

“I was standing here . . .” The sheriff glared at Noah. “Long enough, Ruth.”

“You misunderstood. This is Noah, a friend who was placed out at the same time I was. He thought he was leaving. I was telling him he didn't dare. He's only just arrived.”

The sheriff appeared confused. Noah couldn't blame him.

“He said he was the groom.”

“Can you imagine?” She laughed, a false trill that grated on Noah's nerves. He'd never seen her behave like this. But then he'd never seen her lie. “He applied for a job with Father. I didn't even know he was here until I came down to the barn tonight.”

Harker stared at Ruth as if he didn't believe her. But he didn't say so. “You two came out on the train together?”

Ruth gave a jerky nod. “I haven't seen him in ten years. We have so much to talk about.”

“I bet,” the sheriff said.

The man had lawman's eyes. Noah had seen enough of them to know. Right now those eyes were trained on him, and they looked mighty suspicious.

“Is he the one you've been waiting for every Christmas Eve?”

“Yes.”

Suspicion shifted to a repetition of the odd expression that had confused Noah earlier. He recognized it now. Jealousy.
Damnation.
A jealous lawman was all he needed.

“Where's he been all this time?”

“
He's
right here,” Noah said. “And
he
can answer all your questions.”

“Wonderful.” The sheriff crossed his arms and waited.

Noah did, too. The two men sized each other up. The tension in the barn was as thick as a blizzard in western Kansas. Noah kept waiting. In standoffs like this, whoever spoke or looked away first lost.

Ruth glanced back and forth between the two of them. After several moments, she made a disgusted sound. Harker's gaze turned to her, and the tension broke.

“Well?” The sheriff looked at Noah again.

“Well what?”

“You said you'd answer my questions.”

“I said I could, not that I would.”

“Got something to hide, Noah . . .” Harker frowned. “What's your last name?”

“Walker,” Ruth supplied. “I don't know why you're behaving like this, but I want you to stop.” She scowled at Noah. “Both of you. Now, Leon, tell me what happened. Did you catch up to Billy Jo Kansas?”

Noah stiffened when Ruth said the name. What did she know about Kansas? Luckily, the lawman had returned his attention to her when she spoke, so he didn't see Noah's movement. Noah had a feeling that any kind of reaction from him would elicit more questions from Sheriff Harker—lawmen were funny that way.

“I don't know if we caught up to him or not,” Harker answered.

“Don't know? How could you not know?”

The sheriff rubbed his hand over his mouth. The scratch of a week-old beard seemed loud in the sudden silence.

“They split up. We found gunshot corpses at the end of both trails. One ended at the Kansas River; the other at the Missouri. Animals dragged the bodies around, messed up the tracks. Even if we knew what Billy Jo Kansas looks like, we wouldn't know if he died there. And since the size of the gang changes from job to job, there's no way of knowing if any of them got away.”

“What about the money?” Ruth asked.

“Not there.”

“Then someone did get away.”

“Or they dumped it somewhere safe right away, just in case. We searched, but there's a storm brewing in from the west.” His shoulders slumped on a sigh. “Even if the trail wasn't cold, it will be once the snow comes through. Some renegade will find a bag of money in the spring if the coyotes don't eat it all first.”

Ruth patted him on the back. “You did your best. That's all you can do. Besides, if Kansas is dead and all his men, too, then what's the difference if you caught them or not?”

“About five thousand dollars.”

“Oh.” Ruth let her hand fall back to her side. “Well, look at the bright side. You won't have to worry about the Kansas Gang showing up in Kelly Creek anymore.”

True enough
, Noah thought. There
was
no more gang if what the sheriff said was true, and the possibilities of that made Noah's head spin.

“Suppose not,” the sheriff agreed. “Guess no one will ever know what Billy Jo Kansas really looked like.”

“You think he's dead?”

Harker hesitated, and Noah held his breath. “I think they're all dead.”

Noah could breathe again.

“Then forget him,” Ruth said. “You're back. You're safe. It's over.”

Over?

Noah backed into the shadows of the barn so that neither Ruth nor the sheriff could see his face.

How many times had he wished for a second chance? How many times had he wished his life was over?

He'd never considered that
both
those wishes could come true.

Ruth glanced about, found him hovering in the shadows, and smiled. Noah read love, hope, and promises in her eyes.

Christmas was the time of rebirth. Noah's new life had just begun.

***

Ruth stared at Noah and lost her train of thought. In the space of an instant, something had changed.

How she could know this just by looking at him across the width of the barn, Ruth wasn't sure. But she knew.

She wished Leon would go away so she could discover what was so different about Noah. She took a step toward him, and Leon's hand descended upon her shoulder. “Ruth?”

“
Mmm?
” She continued to stare at Noah.

Leon turned her to face him. “May I have my dance?”

“Dance?” She must sound like a fool, but she couldn't think with both men pulling at her—one with his hands and one with his eyes.

Leon's lips tightened. “We always dance the midnight dance. I raced home, and then I couldn't find you. You owe me a dance.”

“She owes you nothing, Sheriff.”

The challenge in Noah's voice confused Ruth. The two were acting almost . . . territorial. She could perhaps understand such behavior from Leon. He had asked her to marry him, and while she hadn't said yes, she hadn't said no, either. But Noah . . . If he was planning to leave, then what difference could it possibly make if she danced with, or even married, Leon? In fact, he had already told her to marry the sheriff, as if her doing so would not matter to him at all.

“Ruth is none of your business, Walker.”

“More mine than yours.”

“How you figure?”

Noah stepped from the shadows and into the light cast by the lantern. “I've known her longer.”

The glance Noah turned on Ruth reminded her of just how well they knew each other—or had gotten to know each other these past few days. He'd touched her as no other man had, no other man could, and she'd touched him. Ruth blushed. She was glad Leon no longer looked at her.

He snorted. “You don't know Ruth at all.”

“I know her better than you ever will.”

Something in Noah's voice caused Ruth to shiver. She stepped forward, planning to get between them; she wasn't sure why.

Leon growled, an animal-like sound that shocked her almost as much as his grabbing Noah's shirt with both his hands and hauling him close.

“Watch your mouth, stable boy. You don't know her. You don't think of her. You don't even look at her. Hear me?”

“Leon! Let him—”

With a movement so fast, Ruth was left gaping, Noah's hands came up, knocking Leon's away. In the next instant, Leon was on his back in the straw; Noah's knee pressed into his chest.

“I'll do what I please when I please,” Noah said in a stark, cold, dangerous voice Ruth had never heard him use before. The voice made her think that another man had taken over the body of the Noah she loved.

“She's my—” Leon coughed as Noah leaned on his chest harder.

“She's your nothin' yet, Sheriff. Remember that.”

“
What
is going on here, Ruth?”

Robert Kelly's loud, angry voice made everyone jump. Not only did the barn suddenly have a chill, but Ruth's bare feet seemed made of ice. She shuffled until the skirt of her dress covered her toes and prayed her father would not spy her pink slippers in the shadows near the doorway.

He joined her as Noah removed his knee from Leon's chest and offered the sheriff a hand up, which he ignored. Thankfully, her father was alone. Ruth didn't relish explaining whatever had happened here to everyone in town. She wasn't sure if she could explain it to him.

“Uh, well, I . . . they . . . you see—”

Her father made a sound of annoyance as she stammered, then waved a hand, dismissing her. “Walker,” he snapped. “Why did I find my groom with a guest beneath his knee?”

Noah shrugged. “Misunderstanding.”

“Leon?”

Instead of refuting or agreeing with Noah, Leon snarled: “Did you know that this fellow and Ruth came out on the train together? That he's the one she's been waiting for every Christmas Eve?”

Ruth wanted to smack him. She should have been the one to tell her father about Noah's identity.

“Is that so?” Robert turned his gaze on Noah.

“Yes—” Ruth began.

“Why didn't you tell me, Walker? For that matter, why didn't you just come to the house and stay awhile. Any friend of Ruth's is a guest, not a groom.”

“I prefer to earn my own way, sir.”

If Ruth hadn't been watching her father's face closely, she would never have seen the upward twitch of his eyebrows, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the minute tilt of his head.

“
Hmm.
” He glanced at Ruth, then at Leon. “Sheriff, take the girl inside for a dance. She's half-frozen already. Exercise will put some pink in those cheeks and a little less blue in those lips.”

“She's beautiful just as she is,” Noah murmured.

“You think so, do you?” Robert Kelly was smirking now. “Take her inside, anyway, Sheriff.”

Leon kept his suspicious gaze on Noah. “Won't you join us, Robert?”

“Soon. I'm going to talk to Walker awhile.”

Her father had an idea—good or bad, Ruth wasn't sure, but he was up to something.

“I've danced enough for one night, Father.”

“Go!” he ordered.

“Come along, Ruth.” Leon stood at her side, trying to lead her away.

But as she shifted her gaze from her father's face to Noah's, unease traced down her spine. She wouldn't put it past her father to smile sweetly, then run Noah off his land as soon as her back was turned. She wasn't going to let that happen even if it meant arguing with a man who did not abide disobedience.

Then Noah smiled at her, a joyous expression she'd never seen on his face before. He strode toward the door, and she caught her breath, expecting him to walk right through and out of her life forever. She took several steps after him, leaving Leon behind, then paused when he bent, picked up her slippers, and returned. Would no one behave as she expected them to tonight?

“Your shoes, Princess.”

Noah went down on one knee and gently placed her slippers on her feet. Warmth flowed through Ruth, and she held the sensation close. When was the last time she'd felt this safe and protected?

Ten years ago on a train to Kansas.

Staring down at Noah's dark, bent head as his calloused fingers slid along her heel and calf, Ruth experienced both tenderness and longing.