The Gambler (14 page)

With thoughts of her cluttering his mind, he
changed his clothes, grinning as he slipped out of his expensive
suit and into work trousers and a plain blue chambray shirt and
boots. His hat was still on the bed post where he'd left it. It was
free of dust and only a little stiff. Placing it on his head, he
turned and stared at himself in the mirror. The gambler was gone,
replaced by the man he'd always been. A cowboy, through and
through. One who had a lifetime of regrets to make up for and he
wasn't about to waste time getting started. He'd make amends to
those he left behind and try to see his future here in Willow
Creek.

As he left his room, thoughts of Emmaline
filled his mind. Her future depended on him now and his pulse
leaped thinking of her. What did he do with her now that he was
home? Knowing she didn't want to be here, how much would she be
willing to let him do?

Chapter Eight

Guilt rode him hard as he guided his horse
into town, the livery-stables horse following behind him. He'd yet
to return the borrowed horse he'd used to get out to the ranch and
even though Percy wouldn't say anything, Tristan felt bad keeping
the animal for so long.

He smiled in greeting to the boy who came out
to meet him and met Percy inside the stable as he dismounted from
his own horse and led him to a stall. "Mind if I keep him here for
a while?" he asked, knowing Percy would agree. "I've got some
business in town that'll take me a while to see to."

Percy laughed and brought a fresh bucket of
water over to the stall. "I just about didn't recognize you without
your fancy clothes on."

Tristan adjusted his hat and pulled the
collar of his coat up to break the wind drifting through the
stable. "I barely recognize myself, truth be known." They talked
about nonsensical things for long minutes before Tristan was able
to get away. The moment he stepped onto the wooden sidewalk that
flanked the storefronts, his eyes immediately sought out the
stagecoach station.

He knew Emmaline was going to be upset and he
couldn’t blame her for being so. He'd promised her the day he left
her with Ellie that he'd be back the following day and he hadn't
kept that promise. It wasn't completely his fault. His brother's
pushed his door open every morning before the sun rose and dragged
him out of bed and demanded he meet them at the barn. He'd done so
and worked from sun up to sunset for a week straight. He'd
forgotten how much work there was to do on the ranch and almost
wished the hotel hadn't burned down. He could have lived there
happily for months on end, especially when he thought of Emmaline
being a door away. Or not. He grinned when the thought struck him
that she could have been warming his bed while they were holed up
in the hotel. He didn't think she'd have too many objections.

Thinking of her, his need to see her was
fierce, yet he couldn’t make himself walk across the street. Her
berating him was one of the reasons but the longing he felt was why
he refused. It wasn't like him to want to be near a woman so much
and truth be known, it scared the hell out of him.

He'd missed her since being home and more
than once he told himself he was going to go see her but every time
he made an effort to saddle his horse, a little voice in the back
of his head whispered not to. That indulging in his need would only
make that desire more profound. That seeing her would lead to
kissing her and that would undoubtedly lead to things more pleasant
than he should ever take from her. He hadn't brought her home to
make a kept woman of her but damn it all if he didn't want to.

She deserved more than that, though. She
deserved a man who would love her and take care of her better than
he could. He wasn't even sure he was staying in Willow Creek and
there wasn't a woman alive who would chase after him as he crept
from town to town, territory to territory, looking for his next big
win.

He huffed out a breath and lifted his hat,
running his hand through his hair before resettling the thing and
looked toward the jail. It was new and his cowardly feet led him
down the sidewalk in an attempt to avoid Emmaline as long as
possible.

The building was larger than the last one had
been and stepping inside, he could see three cells along the back
wall instead of one. The place smelled of fresh lumber instead of
old ass like it used to and Tristan smiled as he took it all in.
His glee didn't last long though, as Morgan wasn't there.

Stepping back out onto the sidewalk, he was
half tempted to walk to Morgan's but knew his brother would have
too many questions. He couldn’t put off the inevitable forever. He
had to see Emmaline and suffer her wrath.

He crossed the street, his gaze on the
stagecoach station, but the sound of music caught his attention. He
glanced toward the Diamond Back Saloon. Memories flooded his brain
and he smiled in remembrance. A drink would probably settle his
nerves a bit. He turned, making his way to the building, ignoring
that voice that whispered he'd promised his pa to stay out of the
saloon.

Opening the doors, he walked inside and felt
the anxiety slink off his back. This was where he was most at home.
With the sound of piano music ringing in his head. The smell of
stale beer and rot-gut whiskey filling the air. Rowdy cowboys and
high rollers laughing and lying, their shouts drowning out
everything else in the world.

Crossing to the bar, he ordered a whiskey and
waited until it was poured for him before turning, leaning back
against the bar and taking in the changes since last time he'd been
inside the place. The girls flitting about the room was the most
improved change. They hadn't been there when he'd been younger and
it was probably a good thing. He would have spent every coin he had
if they'd been there.

His gaze followed them as they worked the
room and he hid a smile behind his glass. As whores went, these
weren't as pretty as some in the larger cities he'd been through
but he had to admit, they sure brightened the place up a bit.

He downed his drink, told himself to stop
being a coward and paid for his whiskey before turning to go. He
had to see Emmaline and wasting time wouldn't change that. He heard
the sound of laughter, the tone catching his attention. He'd heard
it before and goose bumps prickled his skin as he turned and
scanned the room.

His heart slammed against his ribcage the
moment he saw her. His Emmaline, looking like a cheap whore in her
short satin dress, her breasts all but spilling out of the top as
she served drinks to dusty cowpokes like she was enjoying it. He
saw red and it wasn't just the color of her dress. His blood
heated, his breaths panted out unevenly and he had murder on his
mind the moment the man in front of her reached out and grabbed
her.

* * * *

Keeping a smile on her face while being pawed
was hard but Emmaline did it while gritting her teeth. She pulled
away and placed a hand on her hip, ready to tell this cowboy off
for getting too close when someone grabbed her arm, swung her
around on her heels and caused the tray of drinks in her hand to
slip and crash to the floor.

Tristan stood towering over her with a glint
in his eye she'd never seen. Her heart skipped a beat, the hatred
in his eyes burning clean to her toes moments before he started
dragging her across the room. He led her to the hallway, down to a
darkened corner and had her back against the wall, his body
trapping her in place with his own before she could even catch her
breath.

"What the hell do you think you're
doing?"

Emmaline stuttered and shut her mouth after
not being able to find the words. Trying to come up with an
explanation would have been simple enough if Tristan didn't look so
furious. She'd never seen him like this and her racing heart begged
her to appease him, however she had to do it.

She licked her lips and lifted her chin
before staring him in the eye. "I'm working." It was the wrong
thing to say. His nostril flared, the weight of him pressing her
against the wall felt from her chest to her thighs as he moved
still closer and he lowered his face to mere inches from her own.
His breath was hot against her mouth, his gaze boring into hers
until she had trouble focusing on him.

"I can see you're working, Emmaline. What I
want to know is why in the hell are you in the saloon, dressed like
a cheap whore? I didn't bring you here for this and you know
it!"

Emmaline gritted her teeth and counted to ten
in her head before glancing down the hall. Some of the other girls
were looking at her and she waved them off before turning her
attention back to Tristan. "Not that I owe you any explanations,
but if you haven't noticed, this town is about as small as they
get. Where the hell else did you expect me to work?"

"I didn't expect you to work anywhere." He
looked up, his lip curling before he raised a hand toward her hair,
pulling the feather's Dottie, one of the other girls, had placed
there. "There's the mercantile and the stagecoach station if you
wanted a place to make some money." He stared at her, his gaze
still penetrating to the point it caused uneasiness to cause her
stomach to cramp.

"Well, I asked everywhere and this is the
only place that would take me on." He leaned back enough his weight
wasn't so crushing and she inhaled a deep breath before placing her
hands on his chest. She thought to push him away but the moment she
touched him, she wanted to pull him back to her.

She looked up at him through her lashes,
still seeing the fury on his face and sighed. "You promised me
you'd be back, Tristan. You just left me here. What else was I
supposed to do?"

He stared down at her, his gaze roaming her
face before settling on her lips. "I expected you to send for me if
you needed anything, Emmaline. That's what I told you to do, isn't
it? But here you are, in a saloon, whoring yourself out to anyone
who walks in the damn door." He sneered at her before shaking his
head. "How much are you charging? It's been a week since I've been
between your thighs and I'll admit seeing your tits pushed up in
that little dress is enough to make a saint hard."

She slapped his face and only wondered after
she'd done it what he'd do. His grabbing her and kissing her wasn't
what she expected.

Unlike his kisses before, this one was
possessive. His hands, where they gripped her arms, were almost
painful. He forced his tongue into her mouth and her knees went
weak as that voice inside her head screamed for her to push him
away. She grabbed him instead, looped her arms around his neck and
pulled him closer, arched her back to press her breasts against him
more tightly and moaned deep in her throat when his hand closed
over one, his fingers tweaking her nipple until it ached.

It wasn't until laughter reached her ears
that she realized they were in the hallway and anyone who looked
would be able to see them. She broke the kiss and blinked lazily up
at him. They were both panting for breath and it only took seconds
before she admitted to herself how much she'd missed him.

She glanced toward the main room again and
grabbed Tristan's hand, turned and made her way to the stairs,
pulling him along behind her. Entering the small room she'd been
given, she shut the door and gasped when Tristan grabbed her, both
hands at the shoulder of her dress and started pulling it down.

"Tristan! What are you doing?"

"Taking this thing off you."

He managed to get it to her waist before she
was able to pull away from him, crossing the room to put a bit of
distance between them. She covered her bare breasts and turned. He
still looked mad. His gaze roamed her form and Emmaline couldn't
help the way her pulse raced as he did. She swallowed to moisten
her throat. "Why are you here?"

He stared at her, giving her a black look. "I
came to see if you needed anything but I can see you don't."

That's where he was wrong. She needed plenty
from him but she'd die before she told him, especially after the
way he was acting. "Ellie needed the room."

He raised his eyes to her face. "For
what?"

Emmaline sighed. "There were people coming in
on the stagecoach. Since the hotel burned down, they needed a place
to bed down for the night." She shrugged her shoulder. "I was more
burden than anything to her, Tristan. When I got the job here…well,
the room came with it."

"So you left Ellie's to sell yourself for a
place to sleep?"

Her temper flared. "The only thing I've been
selling here, Tristan, is drinks!"

He looked as if he didn't believe her and
really, she didn't blame him. It probably did look bad but she
wouldn't let him make her feel that way. This entire mess was his
fault. "If you would have let me go, we wouldn't even be having
this conversation."

His gaze roamed her form again before he
turned, looking about the room. He walked to the wall where her
dresses hung, grabbed one of the calico's, and held his arm out to
her. "Put this on. I don't ever want to see you dressed like that
again."

Emmaline snorted a laugh. "You can't tell me
what to do."

"I just did." His gaze hardened, a muscle in
his jaw twitching. "Now undress or I'll do it for you."