Authors: Lily Graison
Tags: #historical romance, #cowboy, #western romance, #frontier romance, #historical western romance, #cowboy romance, #pioneer romance, #wild west romance
"Do you know how hard it's been
to keep track of you?"
Holden looked down at her, saw
her eyes just a bit too wide. Her mouth was opening and closing as
if she was trying to speak but nothing was coming out. Turning his
attention back to the man, Holden said, "Who are you?"
The man ignored his question,
his gaze locked on Laurel. "I've spent the last two months tracking
your movements, Laurel. Imagine my surprise in finding you in such
a primitive place." He turned his head, gazing around the clearing.
"It's quaint but no where near your standard of living. I can have
us out of here in two days time. The stagecoach will be back on
Tuesday. That will give you ample time to settle any affairs you
may have." He eyed Holden again, sneering at him. "Including this
one. Now I don't wish for a scene, so say goodnight to your
companion and let's go. I'm tired and we've a long journey ahead of
us." He held out his hand to her and the silence surrounding them
was deafening.
Holden didn't have to look to
know everyone in attendance was watching them. The music had
stopped and not a voice could be heard, not even the slightest
whisper.
Glancing down at Laurel, her
complexion looked wane, her eyes seemed much too large for her face
and he knew his hold on her was the only thing keeping her upright.
"Laurel? Do you know this man?"
She blinked, a soft sigh
escaping her throat before she nodded her head, her gaze still
locked on the man in front of them.
Holden stared at her while the
man's words whispered through his head again.
She's already
married. Unhand my wife.
When the implication of his
words hit him, the urge to let go of her was great. He wanted to
see her face to gage her reaction more clearly. He tightened his
arm around her instead and lifted his head, looking back at the
man. "I don't recall catching your name."
He'd seen many arrogant men in
his life but something about this one unsettled him. The man lifted
his nose a few inches before saying, "Ethan Dearborn, IV." He
glanced at Laurel again. "And Laurel is my wife. May I ask who you
are?"
Holden ignored the man's
question when Laurel moved away from them both, shaking her head so
violently, her carefully upswept hair started falling down in
places. "I'm not your wife."
Ethan sighed. "A mere
technicality. In the eyes of your father, we are indeed married.
Now come along. I'm exhausted, and I wish to rest before venturing
on."
She turned those large, luminous
eyes to him and Holden saw regret shining in them. Up until that
very moment, he thought the man was delusional. Now, he wasn't so
sure.
He leaned his head to one side,
assessing her thoroughly. "Laurel…?"
She blinked, stared at him with
such remorse, his heart clenched in his chest. Every conversation
he'd ever had with her assaulted him in rapid succession. Their
first meeting in the saloon when she claimed all men were
untrustworthy to her refusal to let him court her for reasons she
still hadn't explained.
But she did finally accept, he
thought. The week before he'd made love to her through the night
and not once had she'd offered any resistance. Her reasons for
pushing him away had been gone but the look on her face now told
him they were back. Whatever made her change her mind was once
again an ugly secret between them. A glance to his left and Holden
knew the man causing this ruckus was the reason.
"I'm sorry, Holden."
Her softly spoken words were
like a knife to the gut. He stared at her, watching as tears filled
her eyes and knew, whatever future they may have had together was
over now. Someone touched his arm and he turned to see Morgan by
his side, Tristan only a step away.
He laughed suddenly as thoughts
ran through his head in fast succession. After all the time it took
for Alex to accept Laurel and to get her to stop fighting him… now
this? He truly did have the worst luck where women were concerned.
Maybe he was just doomed to be alone forever. Looking at Laurel's
haunted face, he knew he was.
Turning, he walked away. He
wasn't sure what was going on but having it displayed in front of
the whole town wasn't something anyone wanted, especially him. He
made it to the street and waited to see if Laurel and Ethan would
follow him but after several long minutes, neither appeared.
Refusing to look over his
shoulder for them, he turned toward the livery stable, collected
his horse and was mounted, riding away from the stable when he saw
them emerge from between the buildings. Ethan had hold of Laurel's
arm and the look on her face would haunt him for a lifetime.
* * * *
Laurel was so stunned she could
do nothing but stand on the sidewalk and watch Holden ride away.
Her heart was pounding so fast, the rush of blood past her ears was
deafening.
Holden's dark, angry gaze was
painful to see. He looked betrayed and she knew she should have
told him everything. The moment she decided to let her past go and
just live her life, she should have told him about Ethan. Now she
may not get the chance.
He turned the horse and sent the
stallion into a full run. She watched him until the darkness
swallowed both horse and man and nothing but dust remained.
Ethan still had hold of her arm
and tugging free from him she turned, and sent him a resentful
scowl. "How dare you."
His eyes widened. "How dare I?"
He looked shocked. "What have I done?" His shoulders sagged as he
looked at her, his features crestfallen. "I've been worried sick
about you. Tormented by notions that harm may have befallen
you."
He rambled for long minutes,
every word a lie. Laurel wasn't as naive as the men in her life
liked to believe. Her past was lesson enough for her to see through
false intentions and as sincere as Ethan seemed to be, his words
were false. He cared for nothing but the money in her father's bank
account. Money that would be his once he married her. "How did you
find me?" she said, interrupting him.
His smile looked sincere and it
was hard to tell if it was. She never knew with Ethan. "Someone was
snooping into your past. You father got wind of it and sent me
everything he'd learned. I've been tracking your movements for the
last several months."
That someone he mentioned had to
have been Morgan Avery, or at least someone Morgan had check up on
her. She should have left the moment Holden told her his brother
found information on her.
Raising her gaze to meet his,
she exhaled a long breath. "Why are you here? I made myself
perfectly clear last time we spoke. I no longer wish to marry
you."
His mouth opened and closed a
few times before he sighed. "You no longer love me, you mean?" The
look that crossed his face made her heart clench. Remorse filled
his face and for a split second, she believed him.
"It's all right, Laurel. Love
isn't instantaneous. It's built over time and eventually, you'll
love me again."
Laurel knew he was wrong about
that. Love could happen quickly. It took nothing more than a single
glance. A warm smile or a quick laugh. She'd known that night in
the saloon back in Missoula that love could happen in an instant
but wouldn't admit it. Doing so now left her heart vulnerable but
denying it hurt worse than knowing she'd lost Holden because she
didn't trust him enough to be truthful with him.
"You made a fool out of me,
Laurel."
She focused her attention back
on Ethan. "I beg your pardon?"
He glanced down the street to
the people milling around town and straightened the front of his
suit jacket. "My friends, my family… do you know how embarrassing
it was for me to have you run away?"
"I'm sorry, Ethan. I never meant
to embarrass you but what did you expect me to do? I may have
embarrassed you but you made a fool out of me. I'd say we were
even."
He shrugged one shoulder. "I did
no such thing. It was all a misunderstanding. And we can clear this
whole mess up if you'll just hear me out and come back home with
me. Besides, your father misses you."
He reached for her arm again and
Laurel knew he'd drag her kicking and screaming all the way back to
Seattle if he had to and she wouldn't let that happen. Movement
between the buildings caught Laurel's attention and she saw Morgan
and Tristan emerge from the shadows. As much as she didn't want to
explain anything to Holden's brothers, she didn't want Ethan to
force his will on her either. She straightened her spine, crossed
the distance between them and laid her hand on Morgan's arm.
"Marshal, will you escort me home, please?"
Morgan stared at Ethan for long
moments before nodding his head. "It would be my pleasure." He
turned, motioned for Abigail and Emmaline, who were hiding between
the buildings, and the five of them left without another word. When
they reached the end of the street, Morgan stopped in front of his
house, opened the gate and ushered them all onto the stone sidewalk
leading to the house. "I didn't want him to follow us to the
school. You're welcome to stay with us as long as you like."
Abigail led her into the kitchen
after entering the house and indicated she take one of the chairs
at the table. Laurel sat, sighed and felt old beyond her years.
She watched Abigail flit around
the kitchen, setting a pot of water on to boil as Emmaline grabbed
cups and saucers and Laurel could almost taste the tea she knew her
new friend was brewing.
Not a word was spoken until
after the tea had been served and it was Morgan, who now stood in
the kitchen doorway, who spoke.
"Is he dangerous, Laurel?"
She shook her head. "No. He's
pompous at times and arrogant the rest, but he would never hurt
me."
He nodded, satisfied with her
answer, and left the room.
It wasn't until Abigail refilled
their tea cups after they'd all finished the first cup that Laurel
looked up at her. She hadn't said a word, neither had Emmaline, and
for that, Laurel was grateful. She'd been expecting questions the
moment they entered the house and if anyone deserved an
explanation, it was Holden. "He'll never speak to me again," she
said, more to herself than to Abigail and Emmaline. She looked up
and noticed them both watching her. "Holden, I mean."
Abigail shifted in her seat and
sat her cup down. "He will. Once he's had time to think things
through, he'll be banging on your door demanding answers." She
laughed and reached out, taking Laurel's hand. "Trust me. Those
Avery's don't know when to quit. He'll be back. He loves you."
Laurel let out an unladylike
snort and shook her head. "I think you're confusing desire with
love, Abigail. Holden's never said anything of the sort."
"Just because he hasn't told you
means nothing. Do you honestly think he would have tried so hard to
win you over just for desire? He could bed any number of women."
She grinned and took another sip of her tea. "It's not desire that
drives him, Laurel, its you. He loves you. Just wait and see. He'll
say it before the week is out."
Laurel wasn't so sure about
that. The night she met Holden, he hadn't appeared to be a man
looking for love. He was alone in a saloon notorious for their
clean girls. If she had to guess, she'd say he was there for one
reason and one reason only. To find a bedmate. And she'd supplied
that for him without much hesitation.
She'd felt so miserable that
night and hoped to drown all her sorrows in a bottle of whiskey.
She'd never been much of a drinker and had stood staring into her
glass when it was set before her. Then he spoke, the timber of his
voice rattling her clean to the toes. One glance up at his face and
it was as if the earth had shifted. The smile on his face said no
matter what the problem was, it wasn’t the end of the world and
he'd been right.
She'd laughed for the first time
in months while standing at the bar talking to a man she knew
nothing about. A nameless man with a gentle smile and dazzling blue
eyes. A man she'd wanted enough to invite into her room and
silently longed for him when he left.
Abigail gave her a reassuring
smile and shifted her focus onto Emmaline, asking her questions
about the trip she and Tristan had taken. Laurel was barely
listening but at the mention of gold, she looked up. Emmaline was
looking at her, a look in her eye she'd seen before. The girl had
gold fever. She'd seen it before in a dozen other towns.
Without excusing herself, she
stood, walked through the house and found Morgan and Tristan in the
parlor. They stopped talking the moment they saw her. "I'm sorry to
interrupt," she said.
"You didn't. We were just
talking about Tristan's trip to Idaho."
Laurel smiled. "There's gold in
the hills, I hear." At Tristan's amused look, she shrugged one
shoulder. "Emmaline and Abigail were talking about it."
Tristan nodded, throwing her a
smile.
Inhaling a deep breath, Laurel
turned to Morgan. "I appreciate your offer, Morgan, but I think I'd
like to go back to the school."