Desperate Hearts (17 page)

Elizabeth winced against the dust that rolled in from the street when she opened the parlor door. A west wind was stirring up the dry earth after nearly three weeks of no
rain.

There stood Mitch
Brady.

“Come in quick before Ma’s parlor ends up a dusty
mess!”

Mitch stepped inside and removed his hat. His thick sandy hair nearly touched his shoulders, but it looked clean. The man himself wore dark cotton pants, a clean white shirt with a black leather vest, and a blue checkered kerchief tied around his neck. He wore the ever-present six-guns on his hips but not the extra cartridge belts he usually wore on the job. He looked wonderful but also intimidating. “I’m glad to see you back. I missed you, Mitch.” She fought an urge to hug him in joy at seeing he was back safe and
sound.

He flashed the wide, handsome grin that made her want to throw aside all caution. “Really?”

Elizabeth couldn’t help her own smile. “Yes, really.”

“I missed you, too.” He looked her over. “You look…beautiful, as
always.”

Elizabeth felt a bit embarrassed, hoping she hadn’t made it too obvious that she wanted to look nice in case he came to call. She knew he’d likely show up today, so she’d taken care to wear one of her better dresses and curl her hair. She’d pulled it back at the sides but left it long in back, and she wore tiny earrings and had applied a touch of rouge to her cheeks. She’d told herself she shouldn’t care how she looked, but the part of her that wanted to please Mitch Brady won
out.

“Thank you. Come sit in the kitchen. Ma went to do some shopping, but she left some coffee on. The boarders are gone, too.” Elizabeth turned to go down the hallway, feeling Mitch’s eyes on her as he followed behind. As usual, his presence filled all the space in the small house. His heavy footsteps and the clink of spurs said a big man was in the house, and she felt enveloped in him without even touching
him.

“I just came to get more of my things,” he told
Elizabeth.

“Yes. I saw Sarah yesterday. She told me you were moving out.” She faced him when they reached the kitchen. “You don’t have to do that, Mitch.”

Hat still in hand, he nodded. “Yeah, I do. With little to do to pass the time in this town besides hangings and whores, one of the prime forms of entertainment is gossip.” He sighed and sat down to the table. “Soon as I got back, Sarah told me rumors are already starting about you and me living under the same
roof.”

Elizabeth poured them some coffee. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I feel responsible for putting you out.” She set a mug of coffee in front of him. “Besides, I’m not terribly happy about your new living quarters,” she
added.

Mitch met her gaze and laughed lightly. “Does it bother you that I’m around those women? Maybe you’re even a little
jealous.”

Elizabeth sat down across from him. “Don’t be
silly.”

“I don’t think it’s silly. I think it matters to
you.”

Elizabeth stared at the checkered tablecloth. “Maybe a little, but it’s really none of my business where you
live.”

Mitch leaned back, looking too big for the chair he sat in. “There is nothing going on over there other than me having a room to sleep in,” he told her. “And it’s just temporary. I’m having a little room added onto the back of the jail. That’s where I’ll be living soon. I always meant to do that anyway, but Ma made it so easy here, cleaned up after me, cooked for me, and
such.”

Elizabeth smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I feel so
responsible.”

“Well, maybe I can talk Ma into bringing me some of her fresh bread once in a
while.”

“I’m sure she’d love to,” Elizabeth replied. She sobered then. “I really am glad you’re okay,” she told him. “After that incident up in the gulch with Trudy
Wiley—”

Mitch waved her off. “She knows that was wrong and that she’s lucky she didn’t go to jail for it. I still think that’s where she belongs. I let her off way too
easy.”

“I don’t like the thought of a woman in jail, especially one freshly widowed, but she did seem awfully serious about killing you. After all, she already
tried.”

“And failed. She’ll calm down now—too afraid of prison. A lot of people like to talk tough, Elizabeth, but most don’t follow through on their threats. She’s lost yet another of her men from that mess before I left. She’s no threat
anymore.”

A moment of awkward silence followed as they both drank more coffee. Elizabeth suspected that just as she was, he was remembering their kiss during their ride to Alder Gulch. He took a cigarette paper from his shirt pocket and a small pouch of tobacco from an inside pocket of his vest. “Mind if I
smoke?”

“Not at all. You never have to ask me that. My grandfather smoked. My father smoked, and my—”
My
stepfather
smoked.
Elizabeth felt naked and vulnerable under his gaze. The man had a way of undoing all her good intentions to remain formal and detached, her resolve to keep everything about her past secret. “I have to admit…knowing you were here in the house made me feel safer. I kind of hate to see you
go.”

He tamped some tobacco onto the paper, then picked it up and licked and sealed it. “There is one way to solve that little matter,” he told her. He put the cigarette to his lips and got up, going to the cookstove and removing the coffeepot and the grate it sat on. He leaned down to light the cigarette from the burning wood under the grate, then replaced the grate and the coffeepot. He came back to sit down, taking a pull on the cigarette. “We could get married and live together legally. Then you’d feel safe all the
time.”

“
What?
You can’t be
serious!”

There was a shadow of sadness behind his smile. “I’ve been gone nearly two weeks, Elizabeth, and I’ve never missed anyone like I missed you while I was away. Not only that, but I worried about you—if you were safe, if you were sad or happy, if you might decide to run off while I was gone and I’d come back to find you gone and never be able to find you. If you
had
run off, I’m ashamed to admit I would have hunted you down like the worst outlaw, and when I found you I’d wrap you up in my arms and beg you to never leave
again.”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks growing hot and her breath growing short. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. Her mouth felt too dry to talk, but she managed to get the words out. “I…can’t believe what you’re
saying.”

“Neither can I, but I’ve never been one to avoid the truth. You saw that the day I set your shoulder and asked if you were a whore. I don’t mince my words then and I’m not going to now. I’m tired of being a lonely man who’s never settled anywhere and never had a real family. It all just kind of hit me after I met you, and the idea just kept growing. It got bigger while I was away and realized how much I care about you. And out here, people sometimes get married after knowing each other only a few days. It’s not
unusual.”

Elizabeth felt dizzy with indecision and disbelief. “I… Mitch, there is so much you don’t know, and I’m just getting settled here and still trying to figure out for sure what to do with my life. I mean…I don’t want to fall into something out of
desperation.”

“Is that how you feel? Desperate?”

Elizabeth swallowed before answering, feeling ridiculous and embarrassed and weak because of a sudden need to cry. “I have felt desperate since before I left
home.”

“And where is home, Elizabeth? I have a strong feeling it’s not St. Louis.”

She turned away. “I can’t tell
you.”

“Why
not?”

“Stop pressing me, Mitch.”

He sighed, and a strained silence hung in the air while he smoked quietly, watching
her.

Elizabeth rose and carried her cup to the kitchen cabinet, where Ma kept a pan for washing dishes. “I am starting to feel like a criminal being
interrogated.”

Mitch drank more coffee. Elizabeth heard him draw deeply on the cigarette, heard a shuffling sound, then felt him standing close behind
her.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to.” He grasped her shoulders and forced her to turn toward him. “Look up here, Elizabeth.”

Reluctantly, she raised her eyes and met his
gaze.

“I meant every word I said,” he told her, sincerity in his unnerving blue eyes. “But I didn’t mean it should happen tomorrow or a week from now or a month from now. I’m simply saying that I’d like you to be my wife, and that no matter what’s in your past, I don’t care. I’m asking you to trust me and let me help you. I can’t stand the desperate fear I see in your eyes sometimes, and I know it’s not just a fear of your new surroundings. It’s something else. Proper young educated women don’t come alone to a place like Alder unless they’re damn scared and trying to hide. I know the feeling, Elizabeth. I went through it as a young kid, and it’s
hell.”

All the running and worry and the things she’d been through and the horror of losing her mother the way she did caught up with her then, and Elizabeth collapsed against him, relishing the feel of his strong arms when they came around her reassuringly. It felt so good to feel that safety and protection, to be able to lean on someone. She wept, and Mitch didn’t say a word. He just let her cry against his chest until her tears were spent. He started to pull away, but she grasped the front of his shirt in her fists and clung to him. “Don’t let go
yet.”

He moved his arms back around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Who’s after you, Elizabeth? And
why?”

“My
stepfather.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you why. Give me some
time.”

“What’s his name? I can at least keep an eye out for
him.”

She breathed in the smell of man and leather. “All I’ll tell you for now is that he’s wealthy and powerful, the kind of man who always gets what he wants.” She pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “He won’t find me here. A place like Alder is the last place he would
look.”

“If you’re this afraid of him, then he’s smart enough and has enough money to pay people to find you no matter
where
you’ve gone. At least tell me where you’re really from. That gives me a little something to go
on.”

Elizabeth hesitated. Was he just using this vulnerable moment to get something out of her? She took a handkerchief out of her pocket and pressed it to her nose and eyes before facing
him.

Yes. Something about those too-blue eyes told her he was being honest. “Believe it or not, I’m from the same place you came from—New York
City.”

He frowned and nodded. “I suspected all
along.”

“What made you think
so?”

“Just something about the way you dress and talk. People from St. Louis have a hint of a Southern drawl. I know a New York accent when I hear it. Hell,
I’m
from New York, remember?” He stepped closer and grinned. “Besides, if you want to hide where you are from, you should remove all signs of it on your baggage. I took a quick look for any identifying marks on your trunk and found a metal tab screwed to one side that showed a New York City address. I don’t remember the street address—I was wounded and pretty damn busy that day and had no way of writing it down, but I do remember it said New
York.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes in dismay. “I was in such a hurry the day I left that I never thought to check for something like that. My mother had that trunk tagged for
travel.”

Mitch stepped closer again. “Is Elizabeth Wainright your real
name?”

Elizabeth was beginning to see why Mitch Brady was a good lawman. He didn’t miss a clue and was smarter and more insightful than he let on. She looked around, worried someone would hear her, seeing Alan Radcliffe around every
corner.

“Elizabeth, the man who is after you is not here, and if he should happen to come here, he’ll never get near you. Do you believe
me?”

She met Mitch’s steady gaze again. His whole countenance was indeed intimidating. If Alan Radcliffe did come to Alder, he’d have a time going up against someone like Mitch…unless Mitch decided to hand her over, if he ended up believing what Alan told
him.

She put a hand to her head and turned away again. “Can we talk more tomorrow? I mean, do you still want to take me to the picnic and the
dance?”

“Of course I
do.”

“Then maybe at the picnic we’ll have a chance to sit alone somewhere. I need time to think about this. It’s a long story, and I’m still not sure I should tell you or anyone
else.”

He let out a long sigh. “You can’t keep putting this off, Elizabeth, and I meant what I said. No matter what you’ve done or not done or why you came here, I think you’re beautiful and special and I want to protect you and keep you safe and…I just plain want you for my
wife.”

Mitch
Brady’s wife.
The words stirred odd desires she’d never thought she would feel, after what Alan Radcliffe did to
her.

“Elizabeth, stop looking away from
me.”

She turned, meeting his intense gaze, those handsome blue eyes that spoke of trust and protection. His next words seemed stunningly foreign coming from a big man who wore guns and grew up with prostitutes and shot men in the back or watched them hang as though it was all in a day’s
work.

“I think for the first time in my life that I’m in love with a woman,” he told her openly. “If a man like me even knows what love is. I’ve wanted a lot of women, bedded a lot of women, but I’ve never been in love, Elizabeth. In a place like Alder, and the kind of job I have, there isn’t much time or opportunity to court someone. Life is rough and people need each other, so don’t be so shocked that I talk about wanting to marry
you.”

His bold honesty was both flattering and confusing…and strangely comforting.
But
you
don’t know! I’m not the innocent you think I
am.

“It’s hard for me to trust those words, Mitch,” she answered. “For a long time before coming here, I only knew lies and deception and cruelty, all from a man I’d known for years, not just three weeks or so, a man whose background and upbringing I knew all
about.”