The Gambler (11 page)

"Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked
when he broke the kiss.

His pulse leaped at her soft words. "They
only had one room available so yes, I'll be staying."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his
neck, laying her head to his shoulder. He dried her best he could
before carrying her to the bed and lying her down.

Looking at her laying there, her skin still
bathed in small water droplets, the desire to strip out of his
clothes and join her was so intense, he had to look away. He wasn't
sure what was wrong with him. He'd seen many beautiful women in his
lifetime but none had stirred him like Emmaline did. She was an
innocent compared to the whores he associated with and her
beguiling eyes pulled him in and held him captive.

He lay down beside her, wrapped his arms
around her and smiled to himself when she snuggled into him, her
naked limbs tangling with his own. He brushed his lips across her
forehead, and pulled the blankets up over her before his fingers
tangled in her hair. She was asleep in minutes but he knew sleep
wouldn't find him anytime soon. He had too much to think about and
the woman in his arms was slowly becoming a problem he wasn't sure
how to fix.

He'd made a mistake in taking her in. He knew
that now. He never intended to take her on indefinitely but when
she sighed in her sleep and fitted her head under his chin, he knew
his heart was softening to her. How would he be able to find a
husband for her in Willow Creek if he had feelings for her himself?
A whispered notion inside his head said he could marry her but he
dismissed it immediately. He wasn't the marrying kind. Was he? No.
He didn't think so. Sure the thoughts of a wife and kids had played
inside his thoughts before but he'd never taken it too seriously.
Glancing down at Emmaline's face, seeing the contented smile
curving her lips, he considered it. And felt his chest tighten.
Would she marry him if he asked? Somehow he doubted it.

Chapter Six

The next four days was a series of towns,
hotel restaurants and long days spent inside the stagecoach.
Tristan didn’t leave her side to venture to the local saloons,
unless he’d done so after she went to bed at night, and Emmaline's
evenings were spent walking every town they stopped in. It didn't
take long for her to start looking forward to their evening
strolls, window-shopping while being escorted down the wooden
sidewalks on Tristan’s arm.

He'd spent more money on her, buying her a
few new dresses made from materials so exquisite she was scared to
wear them but the look on his face when he saw her in those new
frocks was worth it. She felt beautiful when she was with him. She
almost hated him for making her feel that way, knowing she'd set
out to deceive him and still planned on doing so.

It was disconcerting having his undivided
attention. They'd laughed, talked about mundane things and she had
to admit, it was the first time in her life she felt like a real
person. As if what she said mattered. The look in Tristan's eyes as
he stared at her said that she did.

He left her by her room door each night, gave
her soft kisses that caused her pulse to leap and dance under her
flesh and bid her a soft "goodnight" before leaving her at her
door. He was a perfect gentleman and she hated it.

She’d gone to bed disappointed, then berated
herself for even caring. She wasn’t supposed to care. She wanted
nothing from Tristan but her land deed back and his wallet, but her
feelings were shifting where he was concerned. She could feel it
every time she looked at him. Every time he threw a smile in her
direction and that dimple in his cheek caught her attention. Those
damn butterflies would take flight, her pulse would leap and she
found herself wanting to tell him of her gold mine. To share it
with him in the silence of darkness like a lover would. To whisper
how rich they could be once they’d stripped all the gold from her
land.

Reality would invade her tranquil dreams and
she’d remember that Tristan was nothing to her. Just the man who
shot her stepfather and won her land in a card game. A gambler who
thought of no one but himself and once he settled her in Willow
Creek, he’d be gone without a word. She’d be left to find a job and
support herself if she didn’t get that deed back and she refused to
let her sentimental heart get attached to him. He didn’t want her.
He’d made that clear from the start and nothing she did would
change his mind. Sure they'd shared a bed a few times and exchanged
more than a few toe-curling kisses but she wasn't a fool. They’d
spent the last week together, every waking moment in each other’s
presence and not once had he let her believe his feelings had
changed. To him, she was just an inconvenience. One he planned to
get rid of first chance he got.

They arrived in Willow Creek just past noon,
the town a welcome change from the bustling settlements they’d
spent the past week exploring. The town was quaint, only one street
and the people walking the sidewalks waved as the stagecoach pulled
to a stop by the small station on the outskirts of town.

Tristan was out the door and smiling as he
turned to help her down. She hadn’t seen that look of joy on his
face before. He was glad to be home and it showed.

When her feet were on the ground, a week’s
worth of anxiety fled in a rush. The air was so clear here and a
glance down the road, to the other end of town, showed the valley
swooping in an ocean of parched, winter grasses clean to the
mountains in the distance. Snow glistened on the top of them and
she could smell it in the air.

She smiled at a woman who passed by, her
belly swollen with child. The man beside her nodded his head, the
silver badge on his chest catching the sun and sparkling. The town
marshal, apparently.

Tristan turned and sat the last of their bags
down and Emmaline noticed the Marshal stopped, tilted his head a
fraction before his eyebrows lowered, his mouth an angry slash
across his face. He let go of the pregnant woman beside him and
stared at Tristan, his gaze running over him from head to toe.

Emmaline’s heart skipped a beat. Was Tristan
wanted for a crime? Had he wronged someone in town before he left
and shouldn’t have come back?

The marshal crossed the sidewalk to where
they stood and crossed his arms over his chest and glared at
Tristan. “I orta whip you bloody, boy.”

Tristan turned, looked at the marshal from
head to toe and snorted a laugh. “I’d like to see you try, old
man.”

Long minutes passed as the two men stood
glaring at one another and it was the marshal who grinned first.
Tristan laughed and within seconds, the marshal had embraced
Tristan in a hug so tight, his face turned red. There were
whispered words between them before the marshal let him go, holding
him at arms length, while looking him over. He shook his head, the
smile on his face near blinding. “Where the hell have you
been?”

Tristan grinned. “Where haven’t I been would
be a better question.”

The woman who’d been walking with the marshal
cleared her throat and smiled when the marshal turned. He wrapped
his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to where he
stood. Nodding to Tristan with his head, he said, “Abigail, this is
Tristan, my little brother.” She smiled and said a quiet, hello.
“And,” the marshal said to Tristan, “This is my wife, Abigail.”

Tristan laughed and shook his head. “How’d
you get someone to marry you?” He looked at Abigail. “What sort of
lies did he tell you?”

“None that I’m aware of,” she said. “I hope
he knows better.”

They talked amongst themselves for long
minutes, the other townsfolk slowly making their way to them and
before long, it seemed as if the entire town was there, circling
Tristan on the sidewalk and forcing Emmaline back out of the way.
Their things were kicked over, scooted out of the way and the
sidewalk grew so crowded, Emmaline walked a small distance away
while Tristan was welcomed back to town by his friends, and a
brother she wasn’t even aware he had.

She inspected the town as the welcoming
committee grew animated, their voices carrying down the street
alerting everyone that Tristan had returned. Emmaline saw them peek
out the doors of the buildings before making their way to the
stagecoach station to join everyone else. The people in Willow
Creek seemed friendly enough but seeing how small the town actually
was, Emmaline knew she’d never be happy here. She knew no one other
than Tristan and she doubted he'd even stay. He left years ago for
a reason. A reason, she assumed, that would drive him away
again.

Scoffing at her own thoughts, Emmaline turned
her head to look at Tristan again. It made little difference what
she thought of Willow Creek or the people who lived there. She
wouldn’t be staying even if she did find it pleasant. The only
reason she was there now was to get her hands on that land deed,
something she'd yet managed to do.

Seeing their bags where they’d been kicked
into the road, Emmaline gave a quick glance to Tristan before
eyeing the bags again, searching out and finding Tristan’s. She
smiled.

After a week of separate hotel rooms, she was
able to get her hands on that bag and crossed to where they sat,
scooped up both his bag and hers and rounded the stagecoach, out of
sight from everyone. She opened Tristan’s, rummaged through his
clothing and her pulse gave a jolt when she spotted it. It was
lying against the bottom of the bag, hidden beneath his shaving
kit.

Snatching it up, she folded it, looked to see
if anyone was watching her and stuffed the land deed down the front
of her dress before putting Tristan's clothes back into his
bag.

“That’s the second time I’ve caught you going
through my things. What are you looking for, Emmaline?”

Emmaline’s heart leaped to her throat and
stuck. She glanced up and saw Tristan, a look of confusion on his
face. He glanced down at his bag where her hand was still shoved
inside before he looked back at her face. She smiled, removed her
hand and closed the bag. “Well, it should be pretty obvious what
I’m looking for.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I don't know
why. From what I saw, it was a useless piece of land.”

That’s what he thought. Emmaline shrugged one
shoulder. “To you, maybe. To me, it’s all I have in the world. Why
would I not want it back?”

The humor left his face and Emmaline noticed
how tired he looked. She wasn’t sure of his age but he didn’t look
old enough to look so haggard. Something in his eyes made him
appear older than her by years but she wasn’t sure that he was.
When he turned to look back at the sidewalk, Emmaline saw his
brother, the marshal. Her throat closed and she found it difficult
to breathe. Would Tristan have her arrested for trying to rob him
again? Would he check the bag to see if she'd taken the deed or
not?

“Morgan said the hotel burned.” Tristan
turned back to face her and pointed to a spot behind her. She
turned and looked, seeing a burnt area just beyond the trees. “He’s
offered to let you stay with him and Abigail.”

Emmaline’s eyes widened and she whipped
around. She glanced to the marshal before shaking her head. “No. I
don’t know him and I’ll not impose.” I'm not even staying, she
thought to herself.

“You’re not imposing. Abigail said she’d love
to have you.”

“No.” She shook her head, pursing her lips.
“I’m not staying with complete strangers, Tristan, even if he is
your brother. Forget it.” She dropped his bag to the ground and
crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “See… I knew
this was a mistake before we even left my cabin. You’ve dragged me
clear across the territory only to leave me homeless, again.”

He opened his mouth as if to speak but closed
it and stared at her until she looked away from him. The street was
once again filled with people going about their day. The sidewalks
busy with people walking the town and visiting the stores. Emmaline
noticed the Mercantile across the street had new construction on
one side. A look further down the road showed a new building being
erected. The town looked to be busy with growth but she wasn’t
staying. She just needed enough money to get home.

She bent and retrieved her bag. “Get me a
ticket for the stagecoach.” She held her hand out and dared him to
refuse. “I appreciate all you've done but it wasn't necessary.”

He stared at her for long moments before
laughing. He picked his bag up and left her standing there. He
rounded the stagecoach and Emmaline huffed out a breath before
running to catch him. “Tristan, don’t walk away from me!”

His laughter echoed across the street. He
entered the stagecoach station, Emmaline hot on his heels. She
stopped once inside the building. The light was a soft trickle from
the door and one window and it took a moment for her eyes to
adjust.

Tristan was talking to a heavyset woman who
was smiling and nodding her head at him. When she suddenly frowned,
Tristan raised his arm, laying his hand on her shoulder. The
woman's smile returned before she nodded her head again.

The moment he turned to look at her, Emmaline
knew she wasn't going to like what he said. He motioned her over
but she refused to budge.