To Wed a Wanton Woman (13 page)

“Do you know where he is?”

“I thought he’d come find you. Second choice
would be the stables. I hope to hell he didn’t go looking for more trouble.”

Without hesitating, she walked out the front
door and lifting her skirt, ran down the sloping hill. Breathless, she pulled
open the heavy hinged door and stepped inside the stable. Sunlight filtered
through the rafters casting rows of light along the ground. Train stood in
front of Clive, saddled and ready, running his hand between the horse’s eyes.

“TJ ask you to come find me?” He still
hadn’t looked at her.

“He told me what happened and I decided to
look for you. I can explain,” she pleaded. A sinking feeling filled her
stomach.

He shook his head. When he looked at her,
the muscle in his jaw visibly clenched. He blinked rapidly, then turned away. “Not
this time.” Leading Clive by the bridle, he walked past her. Once outside, he
threw his leg over the horse and rode away without looking back.

By the time Marion walked back to the house,
her cheeks were wet with tears. Not wanting to face Allison and explain
herself, she went to her bedroom and closed the door.

Thinking back to the look on Train’s face,
she felt remorse so acute it caused her physical pain. For all he offered, he
made one simple request of her, to stay away from the shack. She pulled her
knees into her chest as she lay on the bed. This time she’d pushed too far. She’d
sabotaged her chance at a normal life.

She closed her eyes and remembered when she
was a child. She could see her mother in the bed with yet another man. She liked
pretending one of them would notice her and take her far, far away to live in a
castle with lots of windows. She would eat candy and hot milk every night for
dinner. In her best dreams, she would sleep in a soft, clean bed while he told
her bedtime stories. Only then, she wished for a papa.

Now, too many long, lonely, years later, her
dream was finally close to coming true; not in the form of a father, but in something
infinitely more appealing. And her foolishness and selfishness were turning it
into a nightmare. Where was her false bravado now? Instead of defending
herself, she’d let Train ride away believing the worst.

Rubbing her arms, she wondered why she hadn’t
noticed how cold the room had become. Reaching up, she closed the window.
Winter came on quickly in Montana. Another couple of weeks and the temperatures
would start dipping below freezing during the night. Thankfully, Allison had
given her a few things to wear. After putting on a long sleeved, heavy cotton
dress she made her way downstairs.

The quiet of the house offered some comfort.
Marion noticed a light coming from the kitchen. TJ sat at the table looking
over a paper with numbers scratched across it. “Has Train come back?”

TJ looked up from the paper and leaned back
in the chair. He noticed the telltale dark circles under Marion’s eyes. She’d
been crying. Maybe he was judging her too harshly. Because he thought a man
should make his own decisions, he was willing to stand back and let Train discover
for himself that once a whore always a whore. Looking at her now made him think
that perhaps Allison was right. What if Marion did feel something for Train? Admittedly,
his only experience with her had been at the brothel. Whenever he had seen her,
she seemed to enjoy her job.

“No, but I’ll tell you where you can find
him.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands together on top of the table. “Marion, I’m talking as Train’s friend. I’ve never been closer to another man and never
will be.” He paused and took a deep breath. It wasn’t like him to talk about
someone’s personal business, but in this case he thought Marion needed to know
how much Train gave up for her. “You think its fun to have little bets, but
Train is playing for keeps. At first, Sandy wouldn’t budge on your contract. Train
spent every dime he had making you the proud owner of a brothel. He gave up his
dream for yours.”

“Where is he?”

“At the lake,” TJ replied.

“It’s too cold. What’s he doing out there?”

“Go ask him.” He stood. “I’ll saddle you a
horse. Do you remember the way?”

“I think so,” she said, panic straining her
voice.

TJ grabbed his heavy flannel coat off the
peg by the door. She slipped her arms into the sleeves. The cuffs fell below
her hands and the hemline hit her mid-thigh.

Once in the stables, he said, “I’ll point
you in the right direction.” He took Midnight Dancer from his stall.

“This horse doesn’t like me,” she said when
the horse snorted.

TJ laughed. “I trust Train’s judgment when
it comes to horses. He likes you on this one.” He fitted the saddle to the
horse’s back and cinched it tight. “Midnight knows the way. Give him his head
and let him go. Don’t try to push him. It’s late. Don’t want you falling off.
He’ll take it easy.” He patted the horse’s rump. “Are you sure you want to do
this?”

Her eyes went wild and her lips trembled.
“Actually, I’m not really comfortable with this, but I need to talk to Train. I
have some explaining to do and it can’t wait.” She grabbed TJ’s hand as he
helped her onto the horse.

“You have enough of a moon to light the
way.”

“How will I find him?” Her voice wavered.

TJ smiled. “I guarantee you won’t miss him.”

He walked the horse out of the stable and
handed the reins to Marion. “Straight ahead,” he said, pointing in the
direction of the lake. “See the point coming off the face of the mountain?” She
nodded. “No matter where you are on the property, if you head for it, you’ll
end up back here.”

“Got it.” She held the reins tightly, gave
them a flick, and Midnight Dancer immediately responded and took off into the
night.

For several minutes, Marion rode through
open areas with intermittent patches of scrub oak carving the landscape. The
valley wasn’t necessarily flat, but flowed like waves gently rolling from one
hill to the next.

Warm breaths from the horse’s snout looked
like puffs of smoke as it hit the cold night air. The horse ran at a full gallop
for several minutes, but seemed to tire of the pace. Marion held tightly to the
reins and let the horse lead.

Concern that she’d somehow missed the lake
began to nag at the back of her mind. Then the shimmering water came into view
over the rise. The moon reflected off the rippling shoreline, kissed by the
wind blowing across the surface. An almost eerie mist crept up the rocky banks
and swirled around the low-lying brush.

In front of all this beauty stood a shell of
a small home. Outlined in the moonlight was the familiar hat she’d come to
expect when looking at Train. A cigarette dangled from his mouth. Smoke circled
around his head as he drove a nail with a large hammer. Immune to the cold, he
was wearing a thin shirt partially open in the front. He hadn’t heard her
approach because of the rhythmic sound of his hammering. It wasn’t until
Midnight Dancer snorted between hits that he looked up.

Carefully holding onto the reins with one
hand and the saddle horn with the other, Marion maneuvered herself until her
legs draped over the side of her horse with her stomach flat against the seat
of the saddle. “What are you doing out here?” she asked, practically falling from
the horse. Landing with a thud, she brushed off her hands and tried to
straighten TJ’s coat. She pushed her hair behind her ears.

“Building a one room mansion.” He set the
hammer on a horizontal beam that would eventually make a window.

Marion
walked to the front of the structure and ran her hand along the vertical wood
of the door opening. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain.” She clasped her
hands behind her back.

“Because there isn’t one.” He straddled a
sawhorse.

Marion
pulled the jacket tighter trying to chase away the cold of his gaze more than
the chill in the air. “I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?” She shoved
her hands into the deep pockets of the jacket. “I guess I did want to go to the
shack. I was bored. I told Allison and she gave me an excuse. I took some cut
watermelon to Cake and when I smelled the chowder, he served me a bowl. Before
I knew it, the man that I played poker with at the reception and a few others--”

“Don’t forget Jack,” Train interrupted.

“Jack was there.” She shrugged her
shoulders. “He was sitting across from me. Everyone was polite. I remembered
what you’d said to me so I acted like a lady, excused myself, said thank you to
Cake, and went back to the house to take a nap while I waited for you to come
home.” She flipped her hair out of her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, voice
straining even to her own ears.

“I am, too.” Turning from her, he picked his
hammer up and renewed pounding.

Marion
looked around the construction site. Pieces of cut and splintered lumber lay
hazardously about. She began picking them up and tossing them into a central
location a few yards away from the framed house. After a couple minutes, she
could feel herself getting warm. Tossing TJ’s jacket over the sawhorse, she
gathered her hair off her neck and pulled it into a knot.

Train’s hammering became a song with the
crickets crooning backup. “When were you going to tell me about the house?” she
asked, continuing to pick up bent nails carelessly tossed to the ground.

“After I won the bet,” he answered as if in
no doubt of the eventual outcome of their wager. “You have two choices. Next
week I’m going to Wyoming. I’m picking up a couple of mares. You can come with
me, or you can stay here at the ranch. The house won’t be finished, but it’ll
have four walls and a roof. Until I can make the furnishings we need, we’ll
have to make do.”

“Maybe I’ll have won the bet and be on my
way back to Copper City.”

“Isn’t going to happen. I happen to think
we’ll be good for each other and I can see the big picture.” He let the hammer
drop to his side. “I want you, Marion. And once is never going to be enough.”

Marion
was quiet while she finished picking up debris.

“Don’t leave me here,” she said while using
a branch from a pine tree to sweep the wood floor that was already in place. “I
want to stay in Copper City with Sandy and the girls.”

Train dropped the hammer and stalked off without
acknowledging her request.

“Train, wait,” she called, running after
him. He reached the edge of the lake and picked up a stone. With the flick of
his wrist, he sent it skipping along the surface of the water. She grabbed his
arm before he sent another one flying through the air. “Patience maybe one of
your virtues, but objectivity is definitely a problem.”

“You don’t work there anymore.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Well, I
haven’t been doing much work around here either.” There was boldness in her
voice as well as a subtle challenge.

“We both know why.”

“Yes we do, the damn bet. Every time I think
about the stupid bet, I want to scream. I wish I would’ve kept my mouth shut,
but we both know I have a hard time with that.”

He could have teased her, implying an all
together different meaning than the one she intended, but he didn’t.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling a
great deal of sexual tension. I don’t care beans about the bet.” The distance
between them seemed to get smaller although neither of them moved.

“What exactly are you conceding?” His hands
were beginning to shake. He shoved them into his pockets to keep Marion from seeing the anxiety racing through him. Blood in his veins felt ice cold as he
waited expectantly for her to answer him.

“I don’t know. Let me ask you something.” She
paused letting the significance of her question gain weight. “Why does it have
to be marriage? Why can’t I show you how much you mean to me?”

He was quiet for a moment as he stared into
her eyes. “It has to be marriage.”

Marion
looked out over the water. She did not want to be without this man, but marriage
was something she truly feared. “Train, even if you win the bet, I don’t think
I can go through with it.” She looked down at her feet so she wouldn’t have to
see the hurt in his eyes.

“Marriage is the only thing you haven’t
given to everyone else.” Train sighed. “I’ll take you back to the brothel at
the end of the week. I need to get back to work.” He walked back to the house
and picked up his hammer.

Marion
mounted Midnight Dancer without help and looked for the point on the mountain
to show her the way back to the ranch. Even as she put distance between herself
and Train, she thought she could hear the crack of his hammer. Feeling truly
alone for the first time, she let the tears she never allowed herself to shed
run freely down her face. Crying revealed weakness. It seemed Train had a way
of forcing her to feel. She didn’t like emotions. Damn it. She wouldn’t care.

Chapter Eight

Marion
sat at the kitchen table when Allison came down just before sunup. Swallowing
the lump that continued to rise in her throat was making it raw. She sipped at
the glass of whiskey trying to numb the pain.