Outlaw for Christmas (9781101573020) (8 page)

“I won't leave without saying good-bye this time,” he murmured, so low only the two of them could hear.

“Don't leave at all.”

Noah looked all the way up her body until their eyes met. In the half-darkness, his were incredibly blue and so full of hope, her breath caught.

“All right,” he whispered, then straightened and joined her father with such abruptness, she wasn't sure she'd truly heard him agree.

“Come along, Ruth.” Leon took her arm, and this time she let him lead her back to the party.

Once inside, her chill dissipated quickly. The house was still as hot as August. No one had left. Everyone was having too much fun. Ruth should be pleased, but all she wanted was for the last guests to go to their beds so she could see Noah once more.

Still, she chatted and smiled and allowed Leon to steer her into the living room as the strains of a waltz filled the air.

They had always danced well together, and tonight was no exception—until Leon spoke. “Who is he, Ruth?”

She stumbled, then glanced up, surprised at the vehemence in Leon's voice. “I told you who he was.”

Leon smiled and nodded as his parents waltzed by. Ruth smiled, too, though her lips felt as if they would crack if she kept forcing them to curve when she didn't want them to. Since when had smiling at parties that she didn't want to attend bothered her?
Always.
But she'd never before had anywhere better to be.

“You said he was an orphan on your train and that you've been waiting for him every year. Why?”

“Why?” she stalled.

Leon's sigh gave voice to his exasperation. “Why were you waiting for him?”

“We said we'd meet every Christmas Eve. We were children, alone in a new place. We needed each other.” Or at least she had needed him.

“But why didn't you tell anyone that? Why be so secretive?”

She didn't dare explain to Leon that what was between herself and Noah was the most special bond in her life and she'd wanted to hold the relationship close and keep the knowledge of it between the two of them. From the way he had been behaving tonight, such an admission would only infuriate him more.

“I-I was embarrassed,” she blurted out. “He didn't come, year after year. It was bad enough to wait and wait on my own, but to have everyone know why I was waiting, . . . It was easier to keep the reasons to myself.”

Pamela Hoffstead, a young woman near Ruth's age, danced by in the arms of the lieutenant from Fort Leavenworth. Ruth smiled a true smile at the expression on the young man's face. Smitten, thank God.

Pamela was nearly on the shelf at twenty-two, and considering the lack of women in Kansas, that was worrisome to Pamela, her friends, and her family. Though the life of an army wife would not be easy, she would be a wife, and that's what counted.

Ruth sighed: Hadn't she thought the same thing only a week before? Better to marry Leon than not marry at all? She'd have been trapped in a marriage that would become more of a prison year after year—just like Tildy.

Then she'd never have experienced Noah's touch, Noah's kiss, never been consumed with desire to experience all a man had to give.

Ruth was shocked at the direction of her thoughts. How could she remember one man's touch while in another man's arms? What kind of woman was she?

“I suspect I can understand why you kept it to yourself.” Ruth dragged her attention back to Leon. “But why did you keep going to the train station when he never came?”

“He did come. This year.”

But had he meant to? Noah had stumbled bleeding from the alley and tried to leave as soon as he'd seen her face. He'd wanted to be alone; he hadn't wanted anyone to know he was there. It was almost as if he were hiding. But if that was true, then why was he still here and giving his name freely to all who asked?

“Why in hell did he have to come back now?” Leon growled.

The expression on his face surprised her. He was jealous. He had cause. She needed to put their relationship back the way it had been when they were younger—before marriage had ever entered the picture. Because now that Noah had returned, he was in her heart and her soul forever, and even if he left again, the way it had always been between her and Leon was the only way that it could ever be.

Ruth stopped dancing and took Leon's hand. She led him from the dance floor, through the kitchen, where Tildy made a face at him behind his back, then out the back door and onto the porch, where they could be alone.

Before she'd even spoken, he removed his overcoat and placed the garment about her shoulders. She patted his hand. Leon was a good man. She hated to hurt him, but she had to tell him the truth.

“I don't know why Noah came back now. I'm only glad that he did.”

Leon's face stilled. “What are you saying?”

“I can't marry you, Leon. I'd hoped I might. But I see now that I can't.”

“Because of
him.
”

She smiled softly, let him see in her eyes all that she felt in her heart for another. “It's always been him.”

He cursed and turned away, leaning on the porch rail to stare at the flat land surrounding them.

“He's a drifter, Ruth.”

“No, he's a farmer.”

Leon snorted. “That man is not a farmer.”

“Why would you say such a thing?”

He faced her. The expression on his face belonged to a much older man. Even with the relative peace of Kelly Creek, the worries of his job were making Leon old far too young.

“Have you ever seen a farmer move that fast?”

“You're just mad because he put you down.”

“I'm not saying I liked it, but I am quick. And I know how to fight.” Leon shook his head. “Farmers have shotguns; rifles, maybe. I've never seen a farmer with a set of Colts.”

Ruth raised her eyebrows. “How do you know what kind of guns he has?”

“They were looped on the stall door, and he would have grabbed them if he'd been closer.”

“You're imagining things, Leon.”

“I never had much of an imagination. But I could always read people pretty well. He thought about it for a minute. Only a man who was right comfortable with those pistols would even consider going for them. He's a gunfighter, Ruth.”

“Noah?” She couldn't help herself. She laughed. “A gunfighter? Impossible. He's a farmer.”

But in the back of her mind she saw the blood on her hands, the bullet in Noah's belly, his harsh voice whispering, “No doctor,” and she wondered.

“You think a man like that will be good for Kelly Creek? Will he love the town? Can he run your father's business? Take care of the people?”

Ruth sighed. With Leon, the town was always first. That was what made him a good sheriff.

“What about me?” she asked softly.

“I don't understand.”

It was also what could make him a lousy husband. At least for Ruth, who needed more.

“You didn't ask if he'd take care of
me.
If he'd love
me.
”

He had the grace to look away. “Will he?.”

Ruth removed Leon's coat. The chill of the night brushed her bare shoulders. She spread the garment over his back and tucked the collar tight under his neck.

“I don't know about love, but he protected me on the train. I felt safe with him, stronger because of him. I still do.”

Leon's shoulders slumped beneath the heavy coat; then he turned his head, meeting her eyes. The sadness of his expression cut into her heart. He might not love her the way she needed to be loved, but he thought that he did.

She reached out to him. “Leon, I—”

He shook his head and moved off, ignoring her hand. At the top porch step, he stopped. “I hope you're right, Ruth. I hope he's a farmer or a groom or whatever it is you want him to be. But I'm not going to bet anyone's life on it.”

She didn't like the sound of that. “What are you going to do?”

“My job. Nothing more, nothing less. If he's who he says he is, then he has nothing to hide. Right?”

“He's Noah Walker.”

Of that Ruth was certain. That and little else.

***

Robert Kelly contemplated his new groom, and the brilliant idea that had struck him like a gale-force wind became a storm inside his head.

Robert needed someone strong enough to hold his town. This young man had put the sheriff on the ground with a twist of his arm. He was big and tough and intimidating.

He also had grit. Imagine taking a lowly groom's job to make his own way when he could have easily sat on his ass and eaten Christmas goose with the family if he'd just knocked on the door. Robert was impressed, and he did not impress easily.

Even though he'd given Leon his blessing, he hadn't signed anything, and Ruth had not said yes. There was still time to change his mind.

He had a feeling Ruth would say yes to this man and to more questions than “Will you marry me?” The way she'd gazed at Walker when he'd knelt and put on her shoes reminded Robert of the way Cora had once gazed at him.

“Walker,” he said, not wishing to explore that memory any further.

“Yes, sir.”

Walker had been watching Robert as closely as Robert had been watching him. The young man didn't miss anything—another asset. But the wary expression on his face made Robert think Walker was expecting to be fired. He couldn't be further from the truth.

“Do you know anything about figures?”

Confusion filled Walker's eyes. “I don't understand.”

“Numbers. Money. Banks, boy.”

The young man's eyes went carefully blank now, but his lips twitched. “I know a little.”

“You want a better job?”

“Just because Ruth and I came to Kansas together doesn't mean—”

“You're right. It doesn't. But I like a man with ambition. One who isn't afraid to work hard and get his hands dirty. To be straight, I like you. Once this night is over, I won't be needing an extra groom. However, I do need another man at my bank.”

Walker didn't answer right away. Robert liked that, too. Big decisions required thought. It wouldn't do if Walker was all action.

Still, as the minutes stretched on, Robert became impatient. “Have you got somewhere pressing to be, Walker? A better offer than this?”

“I have nothing but my horse and my hands, a strong back, and a ready mind.”

Perfect.
A man with nothing would owe Robert everything.

“But there is one thing I'd need before I could stay.”

“Really?” The boy had nerve. Robert liked him more every second. “What might that be?”

“Permission to court your daughter.”

Robert smiled, feeling better than he had in years. Perhaps his prayers were going to be answered in this drifter from heaven knows where.

Ruth cared for Walker, and Walker seemed to care for her. It didn't really matter to Robert if Ruth got what she wanted as long as he did. But if her wishes coincided with his . . . well, all to the good.

He should be embarrassed at his machinations. Too bad he didn't have the time. Life was short; and in the West, shorter. Who knew how long he'd live. But before he went to join Cora and Susan, Robert would ascertain through any means necessary that the town he'd started would not die when he did.

“You know what, Walker?” Robert slapped the man on the back. “I was going to suggest that very thing.”

Chapter Seven

Something strange was going on in Kelly Creek. Noah continued to ponder his conversation with Ruth's father while he hitched up wagons, saddled horses, and waved good-bye to the guests.

What kind of man would offer a job in a bank to an outlaw who robbed banks for a living? Of course, Kelly didn't know that was what Noah did. Still, it was mighty odd for him to trust Noah with his business. Even odder that he'd trust Noah with his daughter.

Noah didn't like it. He didn't like Kelly, either. Mostly because of the way the man treated Ruth. One minute as a housekeeper, the next as a prize to be bestowed on whoever fulfilled his latest whim.

Even if Noah hadn't planned to hang around, he would now. Because Kelly was up to something and Noah planned to find out what.

“Off to my bed,” Tim grumbled, not waiting for Noah to respond.

The old man was cranky, but he was good with horses. Even Dog liked him, and that was saying quite a bit. Noah had learned to trust his horse's judgment when it came to people. Dog had snuffed and blubbered his low opinion of Robert Kelly long after the man had left.

Noah closed the rear door of the barn and secured it. At the front door, he paused. Dawn already tinted the sky. Luckily, the bank was closed on New Year's Day or Noah wouldn't even bother going to bed.

“Be at the office by eight in the morning, day after tomorrow,” Kelly had ordered. “And move your things into the guest room.”

“I don't think that would be a good idea.”

“I don't think my newest employee should be bedding down in the stable.”

“I prefer it, sir.”

Kelly had narrowed his eyes, taking Noah's measure. He must have seen that Noah would not be budged, because he'd shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”

Noah could think of nothing more tempting than sleeping in the very same house as Ruth. Better to stay in the barn and cool more than his ardor.

On the heels of that thought, a shadow drifted past the candlelit second-story window—Ruth's window, from the shape of the shadow.

Though he should stop gaping, go back inside, shut and secure the door, Noah found he could not.

Arms raised, the full thrust of her breasts outlined in the flickering flame, she plucked out pins and let down her hair. The mass tumbled over her shoulders, across her breasts, to her waist. His hands itched to bury themselves in those strands, lift them to his face, inhale the essence of Ruth. What would it feel like to have her flame-red hair loosened and flowing all over his naked body?

Noah cursed and rubbed a hand across his face, blotting out the image in his mind and before his eyes. He had to stop thinking of her as if she were any other woman he'd ever known. She was Ruth, and he'd just been given permission to court her properly by her father.

He shook his head. If anyone who knew him heard that, they'd laugh themselves sick. But everyone who knew him was dead.

And Noah had been given a second chance. He wasn't going to ruin it by reverting to the man he'd been for the past several years. The man who'd put his bloody hands on Ruth, touched her precious body with his tainted mouth, and thought unclean thoughts whenever she came near.

He could become a new man now. He could live in Kelly Creek, be a banker, court the princess, maybe even marry her. Men like that did not dream of taking women like Ruth every way there was to take her.

“Noah?”

He raised his head, shocked she'd sneaked up on him. He was even more surprised to find her in nothing but a nightdress and robe; her hair tumbled about her small face, wild and free. His body responded accordingly, and he gritted his teeth.

“What are you doing out here? You'll catch your death.”

“I hardly ever get sick. I'm much stronger than I appear.”

Noah grunted. How on earth was he going to become a brand-new man if he couldn't get rid of the same old urges?

“I am a bit chilled, though.” She stepped closer. “Perhaps if you hold me, I'll be all right.”

Noah inched back. “That's not a good idea, Ruth.”

Her brow wrinkled. “I thought it was.”

“Go to bed. It's nearly dawn.”

“I'm not tired. Besides, I couldn't sleep until I talked to you.” Ignoring his stiff posture, she grabbed both his hands in both of hers. “That feels better.” She squeezed his fingers.

The ice of her skin made him sigh in surrender and draw her into the relative warmth of the barn. “Be quiet. Tim was tired.”

She laughed, and he wanted to touch her lips with his fingers, or maybe his tongue. “Even if he didn't sleep as deeply as a hibernating bear, he wouldn't hear us. Haven't you noticed? Tim's a bit deaf.”

Noah wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Without the concern of Tim, he might do something foolish. Like kiss her laughing mouth, or place his palms on her softly rounded hips or even—

“Did you say what I thought you said? Are you really staying?”

The improper images faded—for the moment. “Looks like it.”

“Oh, Noah.” She threw herself against his chest before he could stop her, and those images rushed right back.

Before he could stop his hands, they did what he'd been thinking of—cupping her hips, sliding over their curve before locking together at her back. She fit against him perfectly. Considering her size compared to his, such a thing was downright miraculous.

“I'm so happy. What did my father say to you? He wasn't insulting, was he? Sometimes he is. But you have to ignore that.”

“If you call offering me a job at his bank insulting, he can insult me any day.”

“He did that?” She leaned back so she could see his face.

The small of her back flexed, and the curve of her buttocks slid along the sides of his hands. He clasped his fingers together tighter to keep himself from touching those curves any further. “He sure did.”

“How odd.”

“I thought so.”

“What else did he do?”

“Told me I could court you.”

She broke free of his hold, eyes widening, face turning red. “He didn't!”

Noah's heart stuttered. She didn't want him to court her? He was only good enough to touch her in the shadows and not to walk with her down the street?

He certainly hadn't seen that coming.

“He did,” Noah allowed. “But if you'd rather I didn't, I can understand, Ruth. I've got nothing but what your father gave me. You're better than that. Better than me.”

As red as her face had been, it went white now. She slapped him. “Don't ever say that. Don't even think it. You're
everything
, and I want no one else.”

Confused, Noah raised his hand to his stinging cheek. As if she'd just realized what she'd done, Ruth let out a small cry and pulled his fingers away. Going up on tiptoe, she kissed him.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “Forgive me. I'm sorry.”

Pressing her face to his, he felt her tears and raised his head. “Don't cry, Princess. I've had far worse than that happen to me.”

“I struck you. I can't believe I did that. Noah, I love you. I've always loved you, and I always will.”

Noah shook his head. “We don't know each other. You can't love me.”

“Don't tell me what I feel. I know you inside.”

Thank God that isn't true.

“The only reason I ever considered marrying Leon was because I thought you were . . .” Her voice caught, and her lip trembled.

Noah couldn't stop himself. He reached out and traced a shivering teardrop from her cheek. She tried to smile, but she couldn't quite manage it.

“You thought I was what?” Did she have
any
inkling of what he had been?

“I thought you were dead. You didn't come and you didn't come. I couldn't believe you'd leave me here all alone.”

He had. For her own good. For her own good now, they'd take this slow. They'd do things right. He would not tell her he loved her until he was sure he was capable of loving her the way she needed him to. He would not touch her again as he'd been touching her until he was certain he'd be able to stay with her forever. He owed Ruth that much.

“I'm sorry I hurt you,” he said. “I didn't mean to.”

“None of that matters. All that does is that you're here now. I reacted the way I did because my father treats me like a prize horse, to be bestowed upon his favorite man of the moment.” Though Noah had thought the same thing, he didn't comment. “It's embarrassing. He told Leon less than a week ago that he could have my hand.”

“No wonder the sheriff was mad.”

“I set Leon straight tonight. We're friends, nothing more.”

“How did he take that?”

“Well enough.” She frowned. “He seems to think you're a gunfighter.”

A gunfighter was one thing Noah wasn't, so he had no trouble appearing innocent on that score. “Where did he get such an idea?”

“Your guns. The way you behave. Leon knows people.”

“Do
you
think I'm a gunfighter?”

She hesitated, and he knew she had wondered.

“I'm not,” he said quietly.

“Of course you aren't!”

“It's understandable that you would wonder, Ruth. I came here with a bullet in my belly. I'm sure folks in Kelly Creek don't have such things happen to them every day of the week.”

“You explained what happened.”

“Did I?”

“You said you didn't know who shot you. I believe you. Besides, if you were a gunfighter, I'd have heard of you by now.”

“Maybe I'm a terrible gunfighter. Maybe that's why I was shot.”

“If you were a terrible gunfighter, you'd be dead. I told Leon he was being ridiculous.”

“And was he convinced?”

“No. But he's hurt and jealous. He'll get over it.”

Somehow Noah doubted that, but there was little he could do about Sheriff Harker, since he wasn't willing to kill him just yet.

Ruth's silence penetrated Noah's reverie. She contemplated the hem of her robe. He lifted her chin, raising his eyebrows askance.

“Just because my father said so doesn't mean you have to court me.”

“You misunderstood. I asked your father for his permission. Courting you was my idea, not his.”

Joy spread over her face. “Does that mean you love me?”

He didn't want to hurt her, but he had to keep the lies to a minimum. “I'm not sure what love means, Ruth. I've never loved or been loved.”

“I love you.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know. I've always known.”

He didn't understand that. Maybe he never would. “I want to be with you. I want you happy. I want to protect you. I
want
to love you. But I won't lie about it. When and if I say those words, Ruth, they'll be the truth, and they'll be forever.”

Her hands relaxed. Her lips curved as she lifted her face and closed her eyes. “Kiss me, Noah. Like you did before.”

Gazing down on her sweet countenance, he was surprised to discover how difficult it was to deny her. If he was a new man, a better man, a gentleman, he should have no trouble keeping his lips off of Ruth. But before he could stop himself, his head dipped, and his hands grasped.

Noah closed his own eyes and fought the man he'd been, the one who would destroy her. He prayed he could become the man she wanted and needed—the man he'd always wished to be but had never been given the chance.

“Noah?”

He found her staring at him in bewilderment. And why wouldn't she? Up to now he'd practically ravished her every chance he got. The mere memory made his body tighten and throb. Perhaps he was too much of an animal inside to ever be anything else.

Noah forced himself to kiss her brow, tuck the gaping sides of her robe together beneath her chin, and let her go.

“I
will
court you proper, Ruth, and that means no more kissing.”

“At all?”

“Not the way we did before.”

“But why not?” Her lip jutted out like a belligerent child denied her candy.

“It's not proper, and you know it.”

“I don't care about proper.”

“I do. We'll do this right or not at all.”

“Do what?”

“Get to know each other. Isn't that what courting is all about?”

“We've known each other for ten years, Noah.”

“No, we knew each other a few days. People change.”

“I haven't.”

She hadn't. That was the problem. She was still so far out of his reach, he should be shot just for thinking of touching her.

“Well, I have. You deserve a chance to see if the man I became is close enough to the boy you remember. Any future is between you and me, as we are now.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And who are we? The princess and the groom?”

“You're still the princess, and though I'm not the prince, at least I'm not the groom anymore.”

She cupped his cheek. “You were always my prince, Noah. My hero.”

He covered her hand with his, pressing the palm to his face. “Maybe I can be your hero again.”

“I've only been waiting ten years.”

Ruth fell asleep with her head full of promises and her heart full of hope.

***

She awoke to the sun shining across her bed. The world looked just as bright. She couldn't remember when she'd last awakened on New Year's Day without a headache from overexertion and a lingering sadness that another year would pass before she could even hope to see Noah again.

But while she'd had a busy night and too little sleep, the promise of today, tomorrow, and the day after that made her anxious to get up. She bounded out of bed, tossed cool water on her face, then quickly dressed in a plain but warm winter day dress in navy blue.

After twisting her hair into a tight knot at the back of her head, she descended the stairs to discover Tildy hip deep in dirty dishes and leftover food.