Way Out West (3 page)

“You okay?” he murmured
close to her ear. When she nodded, he inhaled the freshness of her golden hair
while pressing her to his chest. “Are you ready to hit the trail?”

She turned her head and
looked soulfully into his eyes. “No, but what choice do I have? I made a
commitment and I’m here for the duration.”

Rand
smiled at her anguish. She had as much spirit as
guts. “I like a woman of commitment.”

He spurred the horse
into motion, thinking, what an interesting week this could turn out to be.

Chapter Two

 They rode in silence
for the first few minutes. Callie assumed Rand was quiet because he was
uncomfortable. She knew she was quiet because she was scared.

 Scared of the horse,
scared of the man. She’d never met anyone like Rand. He spoke his mind with the
gentleness of a breeze. His words soothed and excited at the same time. He gave
genuine compliments—not whistles or catcalls like Spider’s unseemly friends—which
warmed her to her toes.

 She could get used to
that. For too long, her choice in men left her feeling useless, worthless, and
most of all used. The day she walked out on Spider she promised never again to
allow herself to be used. Time to grow up and be somebody.

 And that meant caution
with Rand. He was a visitor to the town and she was a temporary employee. She
didn’t know, nor could she ask, who he was or where he came from, or if his
real name was Rand. For that matter, he might not even be a gentleman. Way Out
West was a fantasy. He could be playing a role like everyone else in this make-believe
western town. The guests paid for a chance to live out a fantasy until their
time was up; then they went back to reality.

 Well, to Callie it wasn’t
a fantasy, it was desperation. Her chance to run from Spider and her
non-committal life. Even though cowboys and westerns weren’t on her list of
favorite things, she’d be safe here until she earned enough to get home and
finish the education she’d started so long ago.

 And she wouldn’t run
out on this commitment. The city girl from Massachusetts had run out on her
fiancé, had run from her parents’ home, and now she’d run from Spider. She’d
been running all her life. It was about time she stood still.

 Rand shifted behind
her, awakening all her senses. The creaking of the saddle reminded her of her
rides with Spider and the sound of his jacket when she’d wrap her arms around
him. How different. This time she was in front, sitting sideways with a man’s
arm around her, not hanging on for dear life as they moved at top speed. Rather,
she was held gently as the contented horse plodded along with nothing but time
to spare.

 Chancing a glance back
at the handsome man in black, she noted the neatly trimmed sideburns and
freshly shaven face. Spider had avoided razors and scissors preferring the
unkempt look. Yes, Rand the gambler was a sight better than what she was used
to. Not that she was interested, of course.

 He interrupted her
thoughts. “How long is your duration?”

 “Huh?”

 “Exactly how long did
you sign up for?”

 “To the end of October,
one month. I’ll see how it goes. In three weeks I have the option to sign on
for more.”

 “Do you think you will?”

 “I kind of doubt it,
but right now I don’t have a whole lot of options.” In fact, she had none. No
job, no future, no place to live. But he didn’t ask. And if he had, did she
want to admit her string of failures—men, education, family, commitment? If
nothing else, she had to prove to herself she could stick it out for a month. The
rest would have to wait.

 The rhythm of Rand’s body bumping against hers as they plodded along made her agonizingly aware of his
silent presence. That and his masculine scent, a strong mixture of leather and
spice. She caught herself inhaling, eyes closed, wishing she could nuzzle his
neck to fill her nostrils with it.

 Opening her eyes, she
looked back at him. “Aren’t you going to ask what I do on the outside?”

 His hat shadowed his
eyes. “Nope. While you’re here, it’s not important. We respect everyone’s
privacy.”

 “Right. So you won’t be
telling me what you do either.”

 Rand’s mustache
twitched and he lowered his head to whisper near her ear, “It’s not important.”
She shivered at the intimacy of his response.

 Suddenly, the horse
shied violently and reared. Rand tightened his grip on Callie’s waist and
kicked the trembling animal forward until it returned to the ground. She gasped
and turned to cling to him as he brought the animal to a slithering halt.

 “Okay, it’s okay,” he
soothed. “It was just a little rabbit crossing the road. Calm down.”

 Shaking, she whimpered,
“I can’t. I’m too scared.”

 A laugh rumbled in Rand’s chest. “I meant the horse.”

 “Oh.” She pushed away
from his chest.

 He pulled her back. “But
if you feel safer hanging on to me, who am I to argue with a lady?”

 She looked up into his
eyes. They seemed to simmer with a heat that squeezed the breath from her
lungs. She watched his gaze drop to her lips and felt herself moving toward
him. But was that what a lady would do? He seemed to take this lady thing
seriously. Would a lady kiss a gentleman without even knowing his last name?

 No. She didn’t feel
safe at all. And she sure didn’t feel like a lady. Callie let her hands fall
from his shoulders and stammered, “I...I guess I can hang on to the horn
instead.”

 Rand sighed and slumped
back in the saddle. “It won’t be much longer. There’s the town up ahead.”

 She peered over the
horse’s head down the bumpy dirt road. A white church steeple rose in the
distance, the afternoon sun glinting stars off the metal cross. As they drew
closer, the whole building came into view with its narrow stained glass windows
and its double doors swung wide to let in the fresh air.

 “They have a church?”
she asked in amazement.

 “Yes, they have a
church. And,” leaning over her shoulder, his cheek touching hers as he pointed,
“there’s the telegraph office, the blacksmith shop, the general store, the
saloon, the sheriff’s office. It’s all here, Callie. It’s a real town.”

 She stared at the
sights growing larger as they approached. Like a scene right out of a movie,
people in western garb went about their business and horses were tied to posts.
The reality of what the next four weeks of simple living and plain people would
be like began to sink in.

 “I just never
expected...I don’t know what I expected.”

 “I know you’re here to
do a job, but I’d really like to show you the real Way Out West, show you why
it’s so special.”

 She looked at him. “How
long are you here for?”

 He hesitated a moment. “A
week.”

 “A week! That’s all?” Her
heart suddenly grew heavy in her chest. She’d already begun to enjoy his
company, but when the week was out he’d be gone from her life without her
knowing who he was or where he came from.

 “I make it a point to
come as often as possible. I’d like to stay forever, but I do have a life on
the outside.”

 “Which is?” He gave her
a half smile and a wink. “I know,” she sighed, “don’t ask.”

 He tightened his hold
around her waist. “While I’m here, my other life is far away.”

 Though his hold
reassured her, a bothersome thought nudged at the back of her mind. Did that
life include a wife?

 Just then, they passed
through an arched gateway. Rand leaned to murmur near her ear, “Let me be the
first to welcome you to Way Out West.”

 His gentle tone
filtered through her veil of apprehension about the town, about the man. While
both held their arms open to her, she didn’t know which one made her more
jittery. But she knew which one would be gone in a week.  

* * *

 “Howdy, Rand! Good to see ya again.” The burly blacksmith raised a red-hot iron above his head as
they approached.

 “Howdy, Abe. How’s
business?” Rand asked.

 “Hot.” The two men
laughed.

 “That’s Abe, the
blacksmith,” Rand said in Callie’s ear.

 She smiled and lifted
her nose to the strange mixture of scents wafting from the smithy. Charred wood
on hot embers, melting iron, clothes soaked with sweat. All honest smells,
by-products of good, hard work.

 Abe nodded. “How do, ma’am.”
Then he resumed his ironwork.

 “No one can shoe a
horse better than Abe,” Rand boasted as he urged his horse toward the watering
trough. While the horse drank, Rand explained how the blacksmith was one of the
hired regulars. “Now and again, a guest will sign on to do apprentice work with
him, but for the most part Abe works alone.”

 Callie wondered what
made a man leave modern civilization to work such a solitary job in a 19
^th
century town. What prompted any of the people here to choose such a hard life? She
doubted she’d ever understand, modern gal that she was.

 Rand touched his rein
to the stallion’s neck to steer him back to the road, tipping his hat to Abe. “Much
obliged,” he called as they continued on their way.

 Before they reached the
general store, two scruffy looking men dozing in front on tipped-back chairs
straightened with interest. Together, the chairs fell forward, front legs
thumping the wooden floor, and hats went up to reveal inquisitive eyes.

 “Hey, Rand! You’re
back.”

 “Just couldn’t stay
away from us, eh?”

 “With faces like yours,
even your mothers would stay away,” Rand joked.

 “Least we don’t have to
kidnap our women and drag them into town,” one countered and laughed, winking
at Callie. “When you get bored with him, ma’am, come and see us. We’ll show you
a good time.”

 She was about to snap
back with a sassy line for the lecherous man but Rand keenly anticipated her
intentions.

 “Don’t answer.” He kept
the horse moving forward. “It’ll only encourage them.”

 Tilting a defiant chin
at the man, Callie turned to Rand. “You sure are popular around here,” she
whispered.

 “After awhile you get
to know everybody. We’re like one big happy family. It’s nice to see the
familiar faces again.”

 “So, there are a lot of
regulars?”

 “Sure. There are those
like me, who come back often, those like you, who work a block of time. And
there are those like Abe, who just plain work and live here. Then there are the
occasional guests who stay anywhere from a weekend to a month.”

 “Wow,” was all Callie
could say. Why anyone would pay for this kind of hardship was beyond her. At
least she was getting paid and it was a one shot deal.

 “Well, here we are,” Rand announced as he reined the horse to stop in front of the saloon. “Your home away from
home.”

 She looked up at the
gray two-story building with its decorative swinging doors, large storefront
windows, and expansive balcony. “Saloon” was painted in bright red on an uneven
board just below the balcony while the rest of the building looked drab with
its weathered clapboards and olive green shutters and doors. The boardwalk in
front stood three steps above street level and was populated by an assortment
of characters.

 Home? Callie had never
felt farther from home.

 Rand dismounted and
tied the stallion to the post before coming back to Callie. “Here, let me give
you a hand down.” He stretched his arms up, reaching for her waist.

 She tried to shift her
weight to make it easier for him, but felt numb on her right side where she’d
leaned against the curve of the hard saddle during the slow bumpy journey.

 “I think my leg is
asleep.”

 “Well, hang on to me
when I put you down.”

 The heat of his hands
on her again sent shivers along her spine. His gaze washed over her as he
lifted her high and slowly brought her down to eye level. He paused, staring
deeper and deeper into her eyes while her feet dangled off the ground. Was this
how a man like Rand, a gentleman, liked his women? Held up high, feet never
touching the ground. Her breath eased out of her chest as he finally lowered
her to her feet.

 “You made it, safe and
sound. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, his smile revealing his even
white teeth.

 “I guess not, but—” as
she put weight on her leg, she felt it give under her. “Oooh! It really is
sound asleep.” She stamped her foot, trying to get the blood circulating again.

 “I wouldn’t do that if
I were you,” Rand warned.

 “Why? I need to get the
blood going down the leg.”

 “You might be getting
blood into your leg but you’re getting something else on your shoe.”

 Callie looked down at
the brown, squishy mound and gasped. “Ughh! Horse sh—”

 Rand clamped his hand
over her mouth, gently. “Unh, unh, unh. A lady doesn’t talk like that in public.”

 She squirmed out of his
grasp. “Then the horse shouldn’t do it in public!”

 Ignoring the pins and
needles crawling down her leg, she scraped her foot in the dirt, one hand on
the stallion for support. But her quirky moves made the horse nervous and when
he sidestepped, she lost her balance completely, landing atop the fresh
droppings.

 “Ughh! Get me out of
here!” she pleaded, the pungent smell already churning her stomach.

 Rand quickly reached
for her hand and pulled her up as though she were a feather. Without releasing
her, he stared with amused eyes as she fumed with anger.