Hell's Belle (11 page)

Well, that ripped
it. Del made a fist and knocked Fletcher Bell senseless.

He landed in a
cumbersome sprawl at Twila's feet. She glanced down at his limp form, then back
up at Del. "My! That was something to see."

Del massaged his
knuckles, waiting. She didn't look upset or angry. Then again, he wasn't sure
that look on her face was actually relief.

"I hope you're
not distressed that I exaggerated. I knew you wanted—I can't imagine why—but
you wanted him to think we…that we're lovers. Didn't you?" She didn't wait
for Del to answer. She just stared down at her unconscious uncle and kept
talking. "I thought that's what you wanted, and honestly there was a
moment yesterday when I thought you looked…as though…" She stopped,
shrugged helplessly. "I think you know what I'm not saying very well.
Anyway, that's why I lied about a kiss."

Oh, hell yeah. Del
must've looked real "as though" yesterday. He was feeling real
"as though" right now. Kissing her was the least of what he was
thinking about doing.
Lovers.
She'd actually come out and said the word.
Which opened some kind of mental door into a world of sensual delight. He
slammed it back shut.

She'd never agree
to his proposition if she sensed the erotic images in his mind. It seemed she
was pretty handy at reading it.

"I wanted
permission to court you."

She looked up from
studying her uncle and frowned at him. He knew what she was going to say next.
Why? That's what she'd ask, and it would kill him inside to hear it.

He didn't stop to think,
just let his tongue fly. "God's honest truth, that's not enough. I
can't…we just don't have weeks or months. Not the way things are around here. I
know this is insane, and you'd be perfectly reasonable to tell me to go jump in
the Truckee. But I want you to pack a bag and come with me, Twila. Right now. I
don't want you under this fellow's roof even ten more minutes."

She studied his
face as if trying to decide if he meant it as a taunt or some kind of joke. Del
felt a rapid flush of anger, but quashed it. She might have heard what Fletcher
had said about his reputation around town. She truly didn't know him. How was
she supposed to know that he'd never been more serious in his life, that he'd
never joke about something so important?

Then it dawned that
he hadn't specified…made her see how vital it was. He took a deep breath, sort
of knelt, though he couldn't get close enough to take her hand with her
insensible uncle and the kitchen table in the way. "Marry me, Twila Bell.
Right now, today. We can go over to the church and get Preacher—"

"No, not
there! I couldn't possibly go over to that—I mean, it would be terribly awkward
at the church here in Wadsworth."

Del grabbed the
back of the chair he'd vacated and straightened to his full height. If he'd just
understood her babbling correctly, she wasn't refusing his proposal, just the
part about going to the Wadsworth church to get the deed done. Then he recalled
her uncle snarling something about the preacher and her need to pray, and
realized he'd stepped on a cow patty with that suggestion.

"Reno?"
he blurted. "Got to be a couple of houses of worship there, or the
courthouse."

"Yes. I'll
just get my things together. When he awakens, he's going to be terribly angry.
As often as he's probably deserved it, I've never known anyone to actually
strike him before." She'd crossed the kitchen and seemed to be ready to
disappear down a short hallway.

"You just
fetch whatever you need. I'll take care of him if he comes to."

She smiled at him
then. Really smiled. "I believe you can."

It was the last
thing she said before vanishing briefly. He heard some rummaging sounds and was
about to go check on her when she appeared in the hall wearing a shawl and
bonnet, and clutching a small brown leather satchel along with a lumpy bundle
of brown paper and string. "You don't have a proper grippe?" Del
inquired, frowning as he reached for the lumpy package.

"Our luggage
was stolen off the train. Uncle refused to replace it. After all, we were never
going anywhere else ever again."

And just like that,
she burst into tears.

So the man who'd
spend his previous wedding day getting drunk while strumpets licked chocolate
sauce off his buttocks now found himself eloping with a sobbing stranger who
didn't even own a suitcase.

Didn't that just
fit?

She continued to
bawl all the way downstairs and out the emporium's front door. When Lucius
tried to interfere, Del calmly informed him that his father had a broken jaw,
and Lucius could find one or two of his own bones broken if he didn't let Twila
leave. She sniffled, "That's right. If I'd been a little bigger and
stronger, I would have broken your neck myself a long time ago. Goodbye,
Cousin."

Del loaded her and
her meager possessions onto his saddle and stopped to stare up into her damp
face. "It's going to be all right. You'll see." He squeezed her
fingers, which were gripping the saddle pommel with white knuckles. "You
got courage inside you. That's the main thing."

It was only after
Del swung up behind her that he asked himself if he also had it. Because it
suddenly occurred to him that this was a dare he couldn't back down from, and
couldn't put behind him in a matter of a few hours. This dare would shock the
whole town and change the course of his life.

She glanced over
her shoulder. "Thank you."

It wasn't much more
than a hiccup caught on a sob, but Del felt it right square in the middle of
his chest. Where a second ago, fear had been lacing his heart into an icy
shroud of potential doom, now there was warmth and reassurance.

Yeah, everybody
else would think he'd gone completely out of his mind. Even Jordy. But let them
all find somebody of their own who could muster up so much warmth inside with
two little words. Gratitude was a start. Maybe someday those two words would
evolve into the three a man most wanted to hear. And if she gave him
those
words…Well, he wasn't crazy after all.

He made it to the
far western outskirts of town before slowing his horse and telling Twila to
turn just a little in the saddle. He kissed her. A chaste kiss, nothing like
the ones he'd thought about the night before when he was alone, all hot and
randy in his bed. Nothing like the ones he wanted to give her, with tongues
tangling and hands roving. But enough so she would know he'd never been joking.

Know this wasn't
some crazy lark.

She knew.

She smiled and
curled back against him. Del felt the small gesture of trust clear to his toes.
He kneed Caramel to move faster. Reno and a seal to their bargain couldn't come
soon enough.

Del paid a night's
boarding fee for Caramel in advance and started to tell the stable hand to hand
over Twila's things when the girl shot between them and seized the brown
satchel as though it contained her life savings. "Fine, you take it,
then," he said in what he hoped was an amiable tone.

Usually considered
pretty glib with the ladies, Del was increasingly frustrated by not knowing the
right thing to say. He'd spent over six months calling on Betty Lee before
steering her toward matrimony. This situation was the equivalent of lassoing a
wild horse and expecting it would gladly prance over into your corral. He
needed to say a few things, but he wasn't about to bare his soul with the
stable boy eavesdropping.

Delancy led Twila
around the side of the livery to an alley between rows of shops and buildings.
"We haven't really had a chance to talk about this. I mean—"

"I know,"
she interrupted, looking up at him with a glimmer in her eye. "If you
could loan me some money, I'll pay you back. I promise. I mainly just wanted a
way into town here. You didn't have to propose. It was very sweet and
chivalrous, but I don't expect you to go through with it. I assume since you've
had time to calm down, you've probably reconsidered the offer, anyway."

He almost swallowed
his tongue. But her clear amber eyes were boring into his, and they drove him
beyond insane. Insane was belting some gal's uncle and running off with her. It
had been impulsive, reckless. Stupid. They were almost total strangers.

But now, hours
later…Even he had to admit that wanting to crawl down inside that same gal,
until you breathed for her? That was beyond insane. Yet nothing she's said or
they'd done made him want her less. In fact, having her little round bottom in
the saddle rocking against his loins had done exactly the opposite. It fired
his blood worse.

So did the blatant
honesty rolling off her tongue and the look in her eyes. She naturally assumed
another man was going to let her down. Assumed Del would back out, make excuses
for his rash proposal, turn tail and ride out of town. Hand her some cash to
salve his conscience and ride off.

Del slid his arms
around her waist and bent his head, kissing her as thoroughly as he'd been
longing to since that first day of July at her store. She hesitated a fraction
of an instant at his tongue's urging, then opened her mouth. He didn't stop
kissing or let go of her waist until he felt her go limp and pliable, lean
against the wood siding for support. "
Now
what do you think I
should do, give you money for a stage or train ticket…or get us a room and see
about a preacher? Still think it was only chivalry rode us out here?"

"You don't
even know me," she whispered, but even as she was saying the words, her
eyes said something else entirely.

"Nope. That's
the truth. You don't know me, either. You make it a habit to run off with every
fella crazY enough to ask you? You let a dozen others kiss you like that?"
Before she could answer, he rushed on, "Because for somebody who does this
a lot, you sure should've replaced that luggage and learned how to kiss a man
by now."

She began to laugh.
She laughed so hard, her knees gave out. Del watched her slide down helplessly
against the wall, until she was sitting in a puddle of dusty skirts and rumpled
petticoats. Damn, but she was cute.

He stepped back.
"What do you truly want, Twila? I can understand you probably hate
Wadsworth, after all that's happened. You want a ticket on the stage?"

"I…" She started
getting to her feet. Conveniently, he thought, so she wouldn't have to look him
in the face as she answered. "I need to go to California. I have…others
there. People my uncle holds in disfavor."

Del snorted.
"Doesn't that include just about everybody on the whole planet? Don't
reckon he's any too fond of me, either. So are you saying you'd rather go live
with them than me? Because the whole reason I rode out here was on account of
you not wanting to get hitched in our local church. Don't have a regular
justice of the peace or judge in Wadsworth."

She frowned up at
him. "You
meant
it? You really want to get married? Not just to me—inconceivable
as that is—but to anyone? You don't seem the type. From what those women
implied…I don't want to end up as one of those wives whose husband frequents
bordellos and never truly wants to spend any time at home or talk to his wife.
I've already—"

"You've
already lived in a miserable house that was a far cry from a real home. I know.
Your uncle informed me that you all didn't converse."

Del took a deep
breath. Maybe she had the right of things. They ought to iron out a few points
before rushing off to find a minister. "How about if I get us a hotel room
and some grub? Then we can decide if I'm staying in it with you tonight, or
riding back home."

Twila nodded and he
started walking her up the street. Right off he noticed how easy it was. With
Betty Lee, he always had to adjust his strides. She was forever complaining
that he was ahead of her or lagging behind her. But Twila just seemed to hover
there, at his elbow. He could barely feel her hand on his arm. He spotted a
hotel and began veering toward it, but she stopped him. That little hand became
a grip that counted.

"Have we
fallen in love, Delancy Mitchell? I never did know how someone was supposed to
recognize when that happened. Is that why we're even considering something this
foolish?"

Jesus. She was
considering it.

Del knew from
breaking horses that you could spend hours trying soft talk, gentle touches,
singing low, any and all manner of things to get a spooked critter to settle
down. And usually after a lot of time and effort doing the same things again
and again there was a moment when the animal capitulated. You had to be able to
sense it, because that was the moment when a wild bronco became a mount.

This filly had just
accepted his saddle blanket, and he sure as hell wanted to mount her.

But he shook his
head. "Not yet. Don't think so, quite yet." Then he flashed her his
most charming grin. "But I'm working on it."

First he went into
the hotel, rented them a suite. Mainly it was a decent-sized sitting room with
a divan and a small bedroom that adjoined it. He set her things down and
announced they were going next door to the café. He'd lock her satchel up safe
and sound. She agreed and accompanied him to the small restaurant, waiting
until they were seated and served before she reminded, "You never answered
my question before, about becoming a husband."