A Wanton Woman Page 11

  I smiled at the idea of an old lady telling everyone bad weather was coming because her knees hurt. But, I’d heard others predict rain the same way in Texas, so I didn’t doubt it.

  “After some coffee, I’ll get going. I should be back in a few hours.” Luke came over and kissed me, then went downstairs.

  Walker pulled me into his arms. “I’ll take care of the horses, then go see to Mr. Bernard.”

  I shifted in his hold so I could look at him. “I’ll see to the animals while you go next door.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “I know what I’m doing. I’ll be fine.”

  He ran a finger over my nose. “I don’t doubt your abilities, doll. I do worry about you in the weather. This is new for you.”

  I laughed then. “Very new. I had no idea it could snow like this. I’ll be fine. Luke told me about the rope to follow.”

  “Good. When we’re all done with our work, we’ll meet back here.” He patted the bed. “Right here. I have plans for you.”

  My body warmed at his words, at the husky tone of his voice as he said the last.

  “Oh?” I asked. “We could… we could do them now.”

  His finger slid down my neck and over the skin exposed by the partially buttoned shirt. “They involve both Luke and me… and that gorgeous ass of yours.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “You mean—”

  “When we get back, we’ll claim you, doll. Together. Then you’ll be ours once and for all.”

  ***

  With Luke already gone, I watched Walker out the window as he trudged toward Mr. Bernard’s. It took less than a minute for him to disappear into the snow and wind. I didn’t want either of them to leave, but that was a silly fantasy. We couldn’t remain holed up in the house forever. Perhaps it was his dark promise of what we would do upon their return that had me longing for them. But chores needed to be done, there were neighbors to help. Until that was finished, I would have to wait, no matter how impatiently.

  It took time to put on the boots, coat, mittens and hat, but knew I couldn’t go outside without them, not even just the short distance to the barn. I took a deep breath and opened the back door, but the cold sucked it from my lungs. Narrowing my eyes against the blowing snow, I turned my back against the wind and pulled the door shut behind me.

  I’d never felt such cold before. Even crossing over the pass hadn’t been like this, for I’d had Walker at my back and a blanket sheltering me. My cheeks stung and my eyes teared. There was no reason to linger, so I carefully stepped down from the porch and looked across to the barn. I could see it easily and ran for it, my steps wobbly from the snow. By the time I pushed the barn door closed behind me, I was winded and my coat was covered in snow.

  Stomping my boots, I brushed the snow from my shoulders and arms. The barn was cold, but without the wind, it seemed almost warm in comparison. The scent of hay and animal was heavy in the air. Taking off my gloves, I went to the first stall and rubbed the nose of Atlas, Luke’s horse. As I murmured to him, he snorted, both our breaths coming out in puffs of white.

  Footsteps on the hard packed ground had me spinning about. For a split second, I thought it was Walker, having returned from Mr. Bernard’s. But I hadn’t heard the door open and he wouldn’t have surprised me.

  Before me stood Carl Norman. I gasped at the sight of him. He was no longer the confident, tidy man who’d harassed me in Texas. He wore a heavy winter coat, no gloves and a scarf wrapped around his head instead of a hat. He hadn’t shaved in days, the dark hair of a new beard on his jaw. His cheeks were chapped and red, his eyes narrowed and wild. He had no snow on him, meaning he’d been in the barn. Had he been waiting for me? Had he sought shelter from the snow?

  “I told you I’d come after you,” he spit out. “I’d get you and make you pay.”

  I gulped down my fear. This was not a sane, rational man.

  “My… my husband is inside. He’ll be expecting me.” I was surprised I was able to get the words out, my mouth numb. I was so afraid I felt my knees wobble. My heart was beating so hard it hurt to breathe.

  Carl slowly shook his head. “I saw them leave. Yes, them. You’re married to two men, giving yourself to them like a whore. No wonder your doctor husband bedded someone else.”

  When he’d confronted me in Texas, he’d said I’d been too frigid to please John. Now, he’d spun his reasoning all around. Clearly, he wasn’t right in the head. And I was alone with him.

  “What… what do you want?” I asked.

  “To see justice served.” He stepped over to the barn wall, grabbed a coil of rope off the peg. “You’re going to hang, just like Neil.”

  He unwound the rope, let the length of it fall to the ground at his feet as he began to fashion a noose. I was going to die and Luke and Walker couldn’t save me.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Walker

  “The weather’s pretty bad,” Mr. Bernard said. With a cloth, he grabbed his coffeepot off his stove and poured two cups. Even with his rheumatism, his hands were still strong enough to grab it safely and I didn’t offer my help. I’d carried several loads of wood from a lean-to by the barn and brought up by the back door. I also carried several loads to set by the stove in the kitchen. He wouldn’t need to even go outside for more until tomorrow. I feared he might slip on the slick ground and with no one about to find him, he’d quickly die from exposure.

  I glanced out the window toward the house. It wasn’t Luke’s house any longer, but our house. The house we shared with our wife, and hopefully soon, children. I caught sight of the lamp in the kitchen window, but then it was quickly obscured by the blowing snow. “Yes, I should get back so I’m not stuck here.”

  He handed me my cup with a knowing smile. “Why would you want to stay here with me when you’ve got a lovely wife waiting for you?”

  Why indeed?

  I grinned and spoke honestly. “It’s different than I imagined.”

  “Sharing her with your brother? I’d imagine.” He took a sip, then went to sit at his small table. “I remember when I married Lydia.” His eyes focused on the cup in his hands, but I knew he was seeing the past. “A woman changes a man. Makes him want more. To be more. And when you have children...”

  Mrs. Bernard passed on several years back and their children were full grown. One son lived in Jasper with a family of his own, the other settling in Denver. Neither had wanted to stay in Slate Springs, for there wasn’t enough employment. In the summer months, Mr. Bernard traveled to visit, staying for a few weeks with each of them. But with the pass closed, he was cut off from them for the winter.

  “I never wanted children before, but I want them with Celia.”

  “Then you better head home and get on that.” Mr. Bernard winked at me and I felt my cheeks heat. “But you’ve got company staying. I’d think that would put a damper on things.”

  I frowned.

  “Company?”

  “That man. Your wife’s friend.”

  I put my cup down with a thud, the coffee sloshing over the brim and onto my hand. A sick feeling spread through my gut. “Describe him.”

  His eyes widened and all humor slipped from his face at my tone. “A little shorter than you, dark hair. Tan.”

  “That’s not a friend,” I told him as I grabbed my coat, buttoned it. My heart was pounding and I tried to remain calm knowing who was at the house with Celia.

  “Who is he then?” Mr. Bernard stood, went to grab his rifle he kept behind the door.

  “Trouble from Texas.”

  He pushed the rifle in my hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. He stopped by this morning, first thing. He didn’t even have a hat. I gave him one of my scarves to use.”

  I gave him a curt nod and opened the back door. “Not your fault. But I’ve got to go save my woman.”

  ***

  Celia

  Carl fashioned a noose from the length of rope with a skill that made my skin crawl. Had he made one
to hang someone before or had he practiced specifically for me?

  “What if it had been Walker or Luke who came to tend the animals?” I wondered.

  “I’d get to you,” he replied. I had to imagine he’d kill them to get to me without even blinking.

  “You’ll be caught,” I added.

  He glanced up from his work for just a second. His eyes had a wild glint in them. “Doesn’t matter. Justice will be served.”

  He was willing to die, accepted it even.

  “You came all the way from Texas just to do this?”

  “You ruined Neil!” he shouted. “Destroyed him.”

  “His wife did that all on her own,” I countered.

  He shook his head, finished with the noose.

  “You couldn’t satisfy your husband. He strayed to Neil’s wife.”

  There was no explaining with him. It wasn’t worth the effort. He’d come this far, a thousand miles to see me dead. Nothing I was going to say would stop him. And so I had to act. I glanced at the door, dashed for it. He grabbed my arm and spun me about to face him.

  “Oh no,” he said, his eyes wild, spit on his chin.

  He pushed me back and I stumbled into the wall. The air left my lungs and I watched as he prowled closer, rope in hand. The length of it dragged on the ground behind him as the noose dangled. There were plenty of beams and rafters for him to accomplish the deed.

  I slid along the wall, the rough wood at my back, away from him. I kicked and knocked over a shovel and I squatted down and picked it up. The wood handle was rough in my palms, the weight of it heavy. Lifting it, I held it out in front of me like a weapon. It was all I had. A shovel against a madman.

  “Stay back,” I said, my eyes narrowed, my breath coming out in little pants.

  “I’m your judge and jury, Mrs. Lawrence. I find you guilty in the death of Neil Norman. You are sentenced to be hung by your neck until dead.”

  He stepped closer and reached for the shovel, but I pulled it back out of his reach. Grinning then, he stepped closer, his hands almost on me. This was it, my only chance. I swung the shovel toward him with all my might, striking him in the shoulder.

  It knocked him to the side and he stumbled, fell down. The shock of it reverberated down the length of my arms, but I barely noticed. Dropping the shovel, I dashed for the door, pulled it open. It ripped from my fingers by the force of the wind and slammed against the wall. Tilting my head down, I ran out into the snow, squinted to see the house.

  Nothing. The wind had gotten worse, the snow heavier. There was no path, my footsteps from minutes ago long gone. I knew the house was directly before me, but I couldn’t see it. Luke had been right, a complete whiteout. I thought of the man he’d told me about, the one who’d died just outside his door. That wouldn’t be me. It couldn’t.

  Looking back, I could barely make out the dark shape of the barn. I knew Carl was in there, that I hadn’t hurt him too badly. Only stunned him. He’d follow, surely. He was crazy. Completely out of his mind and nothing was going to stop him. Knowing that, I wasn’t going back there, even if it meant dying in the snow. I had to get to the house. I wouldn’t be safe there either, but I wouldn’t survive in the storm.

  I couldn’t walk to Mr. Bernard’s where I knew Walker was. While I knew his house was to my left, I didn’t know exactly where and it was just too far. I couldn’t even go in a straight line without—

  The rope! I looked up but didn’t see it. Letting the snow fall on my face, I walked left and right for the rope Luke had told me about, that I knew was there. It was my only guide to the house. It was just a few steps away and my heart leapt for joy at the sight of it. Reaching up, I grabbed it and ran for the house, stumbling in the snow a few times.

  “Celia!”

  Carl’s voice was a bellow, even in the wind. He was coming after me and he was angry. Oh God, he was going to get me. I moved faster, all but running to get inside. I made it to the back door without getting lost, just as Luke had said. Glancing over my shoulder, I couldn’t see Carl, but heard him. He called my name again and again, as if chanting it. I closed the door as quietly as I could, afraid if I slammed it he’d hear and follow the noise. There was no lock since Slate Springs was so safe, no way to keep him out.

  God, were they wrong about that! A bubble of laughter threatened to escape as I looked about, searching for a place to hide. I ran for the stairs and saw out of the corner of my eye the rifle on pegs above the door. Sliding a chair close, I stepped up on it and grabbed the heavy weapon. I went up the stairs, struggling with lifting my skirt and holding the gun on the way. I ran into the extra bedroom and hid behind the dresser, slid down the wall so I was on the floor, knees up to my chest. With my back pressed against the wall, I tried to quiet my breathing so I could listen. If Carl searched hard enough, he’d find me, but at least now I was armed.

  I heard the wind, the harsh whistling of it, the snow pelting the window. I heard my name once, then again, then nothing. I had no idea how long I sat there, knees up and gun ready, but I jumped when the front door opened and slammed against the wall.

  “Celia!” Was that Walker?

  “Celia!” he shouted again.

  “Up here!” I cried. My heart pounded all over again as I struggled up off the floor. His feet were heavy on the steps as he ran up them.

  “Celia!”

  I ran out of the room and into the hall. Walker stood, a rifle of his own in his hands. He was covered in snow. His dark hair was completely white and as it melted, it dripped down his face. His breath was ragged and his knuckles were white as they clenched his gun. Eyes wild, they raked over me.

  “Doll.”

  It was then that I wilted, that all the excess energy from what had happened bled away. My fingers went numb, my knees became weak and I slumped to the floor at his feet.

  ***

  Walker

  I’d lost sight of the house twice on my way back. I’d tried to run, but the wind held me back. I tried not to veer at all, but when the house did come into view, I’d discovered I turned to the left slightly and was in the middle of the road. I slipped on the slick wood of the porch on my way to the door. All I could think about was getting to Celia, wondering what kind of danger she was in with that fucker Norman. To come this far to chase after a woman who had no part in his brother’s crime, the man had to be insane. We’d promised to protect our wife from harm and yet it came right to our house. She had to defend herself from a madman. Alone.

  Taking the rifle from her and leaving it on the floor beside her, I wrapped my arm around Celia. She mumbled about Norman being outside, that he’d chased her but wasn’t in the house.

  I helped her to stand and took her to the kitchen where I watched out the back window for the fucker, rifle in hand. If he made it to the house, he was a dead man. If he was out in the snow, he was already a dead man. He could have returned to the barn for shelter, but I’d check later with Luke.

  My brother returned a few minutes after I had, hearing about Norman’s presence in town from Thomkins, of all people. “He mentioned that Celia’s brother was here to visit.” He’d stripped off his coat and dropped it to the floor, pulling Celia onto his lap, held her tightly. I doubted it was to offer her comfort, but to take it for himself to know that she was well and whole and safe. He breathed her in, just as I had when I held her in the upstairs hall.

  “I asked if he was fucking with me and his eyes widened. Said he still didn’t like me or what I was doing with the town, but he wouldn’t bother Celia.” Luke kissed the top of her head. “I guess you’ve got one admirer because of your help with Agnes.”

  Celia didn’t respond, only rubbed her cheek against Luke’s chest. Every line in her body was tense and I knew she wouldn’t relax until we knew what happened to Norman. Neither would I. Neither would Luke.

  We would not go to the barn and confront the man. Not in the storm, so we waited. I watched out the window and knew the minute the winds died. It took t
wo hours and while the snow still fell, the barn slowly became visible. But we didn’t need to come upon the outbuilding with rifles in hand as we were ready to do. Norman’s body was a dark spot on the white ground, halfway to the house. Sprawled face up in the snow, it was obvious he was dead.

  I turned, looked to Luke and tilted my head.

  “What?” Celia said, popping up from Luke’s lap like a child’s jack-in-the-box.

  “Don’t look, doll.” I stopped her with my hand on her shoulder. Her cheeks were pale, her dress rumpled and her hair half loose from its bun.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked, swallowed hard.

  Luke walked past me to the window. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  She looked up at me, her green eyes pleading. “I have to see. I have to know he’s gone for good.”

  I moved my hand and she went to stand beside Luke. A half a minute passed as she just looked at Norman.

  “I did as you said, Luke. I grabbed hold of the rope and followed it to the house. I… I couldn’t see a thing.”

  She put her hands over her mouth.

  “At first, I got confused, couldn’t see where I was going. I got lost. Then I remembered the rope and found it.”

  Luke pulled her into a hug.

  “I don’t think he knew about the rope and got turned around.”

  “I heard him calling for me, again and again, then nothing.” I thought of him chasing Celia and clenched my fists.

  I stared out at the body, partially covered in blown snow. “It looks like he wrapped a rope about his waist and ventured out. Not sure why he didn’t just follow it back to the barn.”

  Celia shook her head. “He… he was going to hang me. Like what happened to his brother. It’s the noose.”

  Holy fuck. I put the rifle down on the table and went out the back door. No coat. I didn’t need one. My anger kept me warm. I trudged through the snow until I stood over the body of Carl Norman. In his hands was a rope with a fucking noose on the end, just as she’d said. I glanced back at the house, at Celia, at Luke standing right beside her.