Desperate Hearts (23 page)

“Oh, I will,” she answered. “You can be sure of
that.”

Doc Wilson left, and Emma walked over to the bed. “Lie down, Mitch.”

“Get me some damn clothes, woman.”

Emma grinned, going to their one and only chest of drawers and taking out some long underwear. She knelt down to help him put them on, but Mitch grabbed them out of her hands. “For God’s sake, Emma, I can put my own clothes
on!”

Emma blinked, looking at him as though he’d hit her. Mitch threw aside the blankets and leaned forward, wrapping her into his arms as she burst into
tears.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I’m just confused and I’m damn embarrassed you’ve had to take care of me like
this.”

“You’re my husband. I would have taken care of you for years if I’d had
to.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He kissed her hair and Emma pulled
away.

“Doc is coming back,” she reminded
him.

Mitch wrapped himself into the blankets again. “Emma, I’m just upset that something could have happened to you when I was shot, or
afterward.”

She wiped at her tears, sitting down in a chair beside the bed. “Mitch, we have to think of right now. I’m fine and you are recovering. That makes both of us very blessed. And if you never came back to me, so many people in this town would have made sure I was all right. People can say what they want about Montana’s vigilantes, but I know any of them would have done anything for me if I needed it. You should rest easy knowing
that.”

He nodded. “I’m just not used to depending on anybody else for anything. I’ve been fending for myself since I was six years old, Emma, and
I’ll
be the one to look after
you.”

Emma folded her arms. “Mitch Brady, count your blessings. I know there isn’t a better man in all of Montana, but sometimes even the best of them needs help, and there is nothing wrong with that. You make sure to thank Len and Randy for all they did—and Sarah and Hildy and a lot of those other women. If not for the humor they used around me when helping take care of you, I would have gone crazy. It’s time for you to come to realize you’re not alone in this world, Mitch, not just because of me but because of a lot of people out there beyond the
door.”

He moved a hand from under the covers and Emma took it. Mitch squeezed her hand. “Help me get these damn long johns on, will you? I have such a damn headache, I’m afraid I’ll fall over when I stand
up.”

Emma smiled. “And you really think I could hold up a man your size if you started going
down?”

He thought a moment. “Let’s wait for Doc Wilson to come
back.”

Emma kept hold of his hand. “Don’t let go
yet.”

Mitch finally smiled in the way that always melted her. “Oh, I won’t let go, Emma Brady. I’ll
never
let
go.”

Emma welcomed her husband inside her soul, taking in his rich, deep kisses, offering herself to him in sheer ecstasy and in the joy of realizing Mitch Brady had not lost any of his ability to please a woman in every
way.

“Am I back in working order?” he asked softly, moving inside her for a second
time.

Emma breathed deeply, grasping his hard-muscled arms. “What do you think?” she whispered, arching up to meet each deep
thrust.

Mitch reached under her hips, thinking how he could grasp most of her small bottom in both his hands, relishing every curve, every soft place, the look of pure pleasure in her eyes, and the feel of her spasms of climax that made him penetrate her with a gentle rhythm that led to that moment when he could no longer hold back. His life spilled into her again, both of them hoping that soon it would take hold and Emma would have the baby they both
wanted.

He relaxed then, pulling her close. Emma snuggled against him, neither of them wanting to get up and wash just yet. She kissed his neck. “These last five days of more bed rest that Doc ordered were worth the wait, Mitch,” she teased. “Are you
okay?”

“Oh, lady, I am just fine.” Mitch ran a hand over her breasts, leaning down to kiss them
tenderly.

Emma pushed at him playfully. “Time for a break, Mr. Brady. You shouldn’t exert yourself too much at
once.”

“Oh, but this kind of exertion is good for a man.” He kissed her lightly as Emma smiled with the sheer joy of knowing her husband was back in every
way.

“Mitch, I was thinking today as I looked around our little home what a contrast it is to the kind of home I grew up in…a mansion with maids and a butler and fine china and silver, all the beautiful clothes a young girl could want…and that I’ve never been happier than right here in this uncivilized little town in my hastily built little cabin made of fresh pine—just one room and three
windows.”

“I wish I
could
give you all those other things, Emma.”

“I’m trying to tell you that I don’t
want
them. I just want you beside me at night, making me feel safe and loved. Whatever we do from here on, wherever we go, how we live, none of it matters as long as we have each
other.”

He sighed. “I’ve been thinking about that…about the vigilante work. I have some money saved up, Emma. I could start a business as a gunsmith. David Carlson told me a couple of weeks ago that he’s thinking of moving on to California, so Alder will need a gunsmith, and one thing I know is guns. If I work with something like that, I wouldn’t feel quite so far removed from being a lawman. I worry about you getting hurt because of what I do. It still bothers me that you were with me the day I was
shot.”

Emma traced her fingers along a vein in his arm. “I’ll never ask you to go against whatever you really want to do, Mitch. I know it’s kind of in your blood, and heaven knows you’re good at what you do. What you do has to be your choice, Mitch.”

He stretched. “We might end up moving to Virginia City. We have a lot of friends here, but gold towns can become ghost towns overnight once the gold runs out and the inhabitants move on to the next
discovery.”

Emma leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Well, wherever we end up and whatever we do, my offer still stands. If you want to go into your own business or build a ranch and buy cattle and horses and such, I can sell the
necklace.”

“No,” he answered emphatically. “It’s yours to hand down to a daughter of your own, or to keep for a true emergency if something did happen to me. I have some money saved, and you can still teach. We’ll manage just fine. Some day you will have a bigger house and some of the finer things a woman wants and needs, and it will be because of
me
, not because of that
necklace.”

“Well, I mean it, Mitch. I know in my heart you didn’t marry me for anything I own, and so selling it is fine with me if we ever need to.” She kissed him again. “You still have never seen the necklace. Do you want me to show it to
you?”

He grinned. “You’re dying to, so go ahead. I really don’t care one way or the
other.”

Emma crawled out of bed, commanding that he not look at her while she quickly washed. Mitch had to laugh at the fact that he’d seen and touched and tasted every inch of her, but she didn’t want him to see her up naked and washing herself. He turned away and took a cheroot from a little stand on his side of the bed. He scooted up and removed the chimney from a nearby oil lamp, lighting the cheroot from its flame. He replaced the chimney and put a pillow behind him, relaxing against the headboard of the bed, smoking quietly while Emma pulled on a robe and went to her trunk in the
corner.

“
That’s
where you keep a valuable necklace?” he
asked.

“I had no place else to hide it. The day of the robbery I had it inside my camisole. I was so scared those men would rip my clothes off and find
it.”

Mitch chuckled. “I would think you’d be more afraid of what they would have done with you once they got your clothes off,” he
teased.

“Well, that, too.”

Mitch laughed harder, enjoying the look of her after lovemaking, her hair a mess, her beautiful skin natural, no paint, nothing fake or false about her. She wrapped something into her robe and came back to the bed, moving up against the headboard to sit beside him. She took the necklace from under her robe and held it up. “This is it,” she told
him.

Mitch took the cheroot from his lips, gawking at a spectacular necklace. “Jesus,” he muttered, losing his smile. He stared at the delicate, lacy-looking cascade of gold embedded with more jewels than he’d ever seen in his life—more jewels than pretty much
any
human being had ever seen. “For God’s sake, Emma, that thing should be in a bank safe in Virginia City! Maybe it should even be in a vault in some bigger city that has more law and order. It must be worth
thousands!”

“I’m sure it is. It’s pure gold, and all the jewels are real—sapphires, rubies, diamonds, garnets, pearls, emeralds, amethyst. Besides the value of the jewels themselves, the fact that it belonged to a member of the royal family makes it even more valuable.” She handed it out to him, but Mitch put out his hand
defensively.

“No thanks! I’m not sure I even want to
touch
it.” He frowned. “No wonder Alan Radcliffe kept trying to get his hands on that thing. If he was losing money like you say he was, that necklace could have kept him going for a long
time.”

The mention of Alan brought a quick pain to Emma’s chest. She lost her smile. “I’d almost forgotten about Alan,” she told Mitch, staring at the
necklace.

Mitch laid the cheroot in an ashtray on the nightstand. “We’ll figure out what to do about Alan Radcliffe,” he told her. “I’ll see if I can find a way to learn if he’s actually put out a warrant for you back in New York. Hal Wallace and David Meeks can maybe find the right person to send a telegram
to.”

Emma clutched the necklace. “But if you do that, they’ll know I’m here. They’ll come after
me!”

“In Montana? There isn’t a man alive, including the president himself, who’d come out here and go up against the vigilantes. No one is going to lay a hand on you, Emma. I don’t want you to worry about it.” He leaned closer and kissed her lightly, finally taking the necklace from her. “Turn around. I didn’t want to touch this thing, but I can’t resist seeing how it looks on a naked descendant of the royal
family.”

Emma laughed lightly, turning her back to him. “Mitch, my family is
not
descended from the royal
family.”

Mitch clasped the necklace around her neck. “I don’t care. I now pronounce you queen of England,” he
teased.

Emma turned, and Mitch shook his head. “My God, you’re beautiful! What the hell is a woman who grew up in a mansion and led a pampered and spoiled life and who went to finishing school and is the most beautiful creature on earth and the heiress of a necklace worth thousands doing married to a man like
me?”

Emma ran a hand through his thick hair, carefully avoiding the still-healing wound that had nearly taken him from her for good. “She’s married to you because there isn’t a man anywhere, no matter how rich and sophisticated and educated, who can hold a candle to my rugged, handsome, brave, able lawman, or who could possibly make a woman feel the way you make me
feel.”

He frowned. “Even though I’m a worthless, no-good, murdering
vigilante?”

Emma grinned. “Even
that.”

He touched the necklace again, studying it more closely. “We do have to decide what to do with this thing,” he added. “Something this valuable shouldn’t be lying around in a trunk in a one-room cabin in a lawless town full of gold-hungry men. We’ll take it to Virginia City with us and find a safer place for it. And you need to draw up a will or something that says if something happens to you, the necklace goes to your children, if you have any. Or you can designate it goes to a museum or
something.”

“Not to
you?”

“No, ma’am. That necklace is made for better things than the saddlebags of a drunken saddle bum, which is what I would be if anything ever happened to you. Life wouldn’t be worth living, rich or poor, without you in
it.”

She touched his face. “You really mean that, don’t
you?”

He kissed her hand. “I really mean
it.”

“And there is your answer as to why this woman of royal blood who grew up in a mansion and led a pampered and spoiled life married a man like you. You are a good and unselfish
man.”

“I’m not so sure about the good part.” He grinned, moving a hand inside her robe to gently fondle her breast. “Tell me something if you can.” He pushed the robe off her shoulders, exposing her
breasts.

“What is it?” she
asked.

He leaned close and kissed her. “If your grandmother’s husband was so angry with her for her affair, and if he banished her like you say he did”—he moved his lips to her neck—“why on earth would he have given her such a valuable necklace? He took everything else from her. Why not
that?”

“Well, the answer is kind of
embarrassing.”

He stopped his kisses, meeting her gaze. “Tell
me.”

Emma scooted down, grinning as he moved on top of her. “According to what my grandmother told my mother, her husband, who like I said was actually her cousin…” She hesitated. “It’s hard for me to say
this.”

“Oh?” He leaned down and kissed her
throat.

“Yes. I mean…well, my mother told me that according to my grandmother he…he preferred men. He never even once made love to my
grandmother.”

“Preferred men?” He shook his head. “Not that I haven’t heard of such things, but what’s that got to do with the
necklace?”

“According to what my grandmother told my mother, it was a payoff. He told her she could have one valuable thing to help her provide for herself and her baby if she never told anyone he’d never shared her bed. In return, he’d let her out of the marriage because she was so
unhappy.”

Mitch kissed her breasts, then moved between her legs again. “Well, I can assure you, Mrs. Brady, that
this
man definitely prefers women.” He relished the feel of her as he invaded her yet again, unable to understand how any man wouldn’t want what he had right now in his arms…in his bed…in his
life.

He made love to her yet again, thinking how the necklace sparkled, even in the dim light of an oil lamp. He didn’t want to tell her, but it worried him now that he’d seen what a treasure it was. It reminded him that he had to find a way to settle the problem of Alan Radcliffe so Emma could finally have total peace of
mind.