Between Love and Lies (11 page)

A single finger touched her lips, halting her scream.

“Shh, sweetheart. We don’t want company,” the voice from her dreams murmured. Familiar and foreign. A gravelly velvet. Too many things all at once.

She pushed Noah’s hand aside. “Why are you in my bedroom?” She winced when her voice cracked on the last word. She’d wondered what would happen if they were ever alone in her room. Now here he was.

Her heart thudded in her chest. Could he sense her jumpiness? Maybe even see it? She drew her blanket up under her chin.

“You said you were hungrier in the mornings.” His gaze dropped to her hands, to the coat draped over her bed sheet. His coat.

Her fingers tightened in its heavy folds, dreading its departure but knowing she must let go.

“You keep warm.” He stood and turned toward her bureau. “I’ll get your breakfast.”

Relief made her inhale a breath of much needed air. With it came the aroma of bacon, eggs and buttered toast. For once her stomach growled in anticipation.

“Move over.” Balancing a plate heaped with food in his hands, Noah nudged her sideways with his hip and sat in the space he made. He reclined against the brass headboard and stretched out his legs on the mattress.

Gawking at his long frame wedged beside her on her narrow bed, she blurted the first words that leaped into her mind. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Nothing’s going to happen…that you aren’t comfortable with. I promised, and I keep my promises. Eat something, and you’ll have one more acre.” With a finger under her chin, he raised her gaze to meet his. “That’ll make five,” he added and graced her with one of his all too rare smiles.

Ah yes, his tempting and perplexing bargain concerning her farm. She’d spent too many moments since he’d outlined his proposal seesawing between conviction and doubt. She couldn’t afford the distraction. Despite telling Noah that she wanted her farm to goad him, the desire to regain her home had always lurked in her heart.

Now she realized the outcome would be no different than with his coat. As soon as she had the land, she’d have to let it go. She couldn’t keep her vow to Edward and live near Gertie. One didn’t stay anywhere near a rattlesnake once you disturbed its nest.

She couldn’t even sell the land and use the money to start a life far away from Dodge, and Noah. A sale would take too long to organize. Her flight must be executed with haste. The return of her beloved farm had become a bluff card, a distraction to keep Noah from getting too close and derailing what mattered most—fulfilling her promise and earning her freedom.

So why did she continue clutching his coat and sitting in bed beside Noah? Because she didn’t want to be parted from the coat or its owner. That conclusion didn’t bode well for her plan’s success.

She jumped off the bed and thrust his coat at him. “You should take this back.”

His smile faded till not even a shadow of it remained. The sight chilled her more than the loss of his coat or the warmth of him sitting beside her.

A bang on the door made her jump. The sound came again, low near the floor as if from a booted foot. The rattle of china followed.

“Sadie,” a muffled but unmistakably feminine voice called. “Get up, you lazy thing, and open this door. My hands are full.”

Sadie gestured wildly at the window. When Noah didn’t move except to arch a brow in question, she shoved his chest. Unmovable as a mountain, he stared at her palms touching him. A jolt of unwelcome attraction made her jerk back.

She pointed at the window again and mouthed the word,
Go.

With a sigh, Noah rose and set her breakfast on the bureau. Then he went to the window, disappearing through it and onto the balcony in one fluid movement. She stared forlornly at the billowing lace curtains—the only sign that a second ago she’d not been alone.

Another knock vibrated the door.

“I’m coming,” Sadie yelled.

The voice outside grumbled, “Hurry up. This food’s heavy.”

The food! Darting around the foot of her bed, she grabbed Noah’s plate. Where could she hide it? In a room this size, she had limited options: her bed or her bureau. She opted for the latter and stowed the food in the bottom drawer. Then she rushed to open the door.

Cora greeted her with a glare before giving her an astute once over. “Gertie thought you needed to eat. I thought I heard voices.” She shoved the tray into Sadie’s hands and pushed through the doorway.

Sadie stifled the urge to tell the woman to leave.

The ebony-haired beauty had been with Gertie longer than anyone at the Star. The other girls whispered that as Gertie came west, she’d visited a string of orphanages to gather unwanted children. Cora had been among the first. There was a reason she’d outlasted them all. She had brains as well as beauty. If she decided something was amiss, she’d tell Gertie.

Trying to conceal her secrets, Sadie dropped her gaze to the chipped plate containing two black squares and a gray blob. She shifted the tray. The blob jiggled. A congealed egg, perhaps? She contemplated the squares next and wrinkled her nose at the smell of burnt toast.

The contrasts between Cora and Noah’s offerings made her want to both laugh and cry.

Cora’s skirts swished as she completed a circuit of the room before returning to Sadie. She didn’t apologize for the intrusion or the inspection. She pointed at the tray in Sadie’s hands. “The food was Gertie’s idea. The medicine was mine. Didn’t want you running out.”

A brown glass bottle sat next to the plate. The liquid inside would be a pale, chalky blue. Her medicine. Her poison. She fought the urge to hurl the bottle at Cora’s head.

The floorboards squeaked. She glanced up to see Cora heading for the window. Like a hound that’d picked up the scent of a juicy morsel, Cora wouldn’t stop until she’d searched everywhere. What if Noah was still on the balcony? The possibility made her heart take off at gallop.

She had to stop Cora. She had to say something the woman didn’t want to hear. Something that might put her plans to escape Dodge in jeopardy. She drew in a quick breath and told the truth. “I want to stop taking the medicine.”

Cora’s fingers halted on the curtain. She sauntered back, scooped up the bottle and waggled it under Sadie’s nose. “There’s only one reason I can think of for you to stop taking this—if you weren’t sick. You telling me you’re faking your illness?”

Sadie’s stomach plummeted. Was Cora saying she knew Sadie didn’t have syphilis? That she knew Edward hadn’t bedded her?

Cora’s toe tapped a beat to the seconds ticking away before Sadie’s demise. How long before Cora ran and told Gertie?

“Don’t fight me. You’ll lose. I know you’re sick. I can see it in every faltering step you take, not to mention the pasty color of your skin. So take your medicine.” Cora collected a spoon from the tray, filled it with blue liquid and held it up for Sadie. “Take your medicine an’ there’s no need for me to tell Gertie about this conversation.”

A chill crawled up her spine. Could Cora have realized like Sadie had that the medicine was toxic? She couldn’t ask without making her situation worse. Cora’s words rang in her head:
Don’t fight me. You’ll lose.
If she challenged the woman today, she’d lose. But tomorrow might be different.

Sadie opened her mouth and accepted her bitter salvation.

Cora put the stopper in the bottle and set it on the tray. “Remember what I said when you first started taking the medicine? About getting the girls to help monitor your health, to check your chamber pot? Is it time to tell Gertie you can no longer stomach your medicine? That she needs to get involved?”

Cora’s continuous harping on the complexity of Sadie’s situation held her mute. The woman was as big a threat as Gertie. All Sadie wanted right now was to be left alone to think.

Luckily when she didn’t reply, Cora crossed to the door and closed it behind her with a satisfied click.

A heavy silence filled the room. She deposited the tray on the bureau and opened the bottom drawer. Setting Noah’s plate next to Cora’s, she stared at the better of the two meals. A strange dejection stole over her as she contemplated Noah’s premature departure. With a curse, she grabbed the medicine bottle. When a hand seized hers, she jumped.

Noah stood beside her again. Gaze riveted on the bottle in her hand, the contours of his face had hardened. “What’s in it?” he demanded, prying her fingers open. “Blue mass syrup…” He rotated the bottle and kept reading the label. “Hollyhock rose honey, licorice and mercury.” His gaze cut to her. “Why are you taking this?”

“Doctor Rhodes prescribed it.”

“I don’t trust him. I don’t want you swallowing any more of this swill.”

“Do you think it matters what you want? It doesn’t even matter what
I
want.” Her voice rose dangerously high. She pressed her fisted hand to her lips.

“How long have they been forcing you to take this?”

She shook her head and stared at the door, refusing to look at him.

“Answer me, Sadie. How long?”

“Since I was diagnosed.”

He swore under his breath. “I’m getting you out of here if I have to carry you out.”

“The first chance I got, I’d leave you and come back.”

The silence that followed gnawed at her resolve not to give in to him in any way. But it was her dread of what she might see if she looked at him that kept her gaze pinned on the door.

“You’d rather stay here than leave with me?” he asked in a much too quiet voice.

“I’d rather say goodbye to Dodge on my own terms. That way I won’t be a whore—to you or anyone else.”

“It’s too late for that.”

His words hit her like a slap in the face, rocking her on her heels. She squeezed shut her eyes to hide her pain from him.

“Damn it, Sadie.” His breath left him in hiss. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t think of you as a—”

She forced herself cut him off. “I work in a saloon with a brothel above it. Don’t lie to yourself. I’m a whore. But right now my illness saves me from those duties. The doctor, Gertie, Cora—they all tell me to take the medicine. If I do what they say, they leave me alone, and so do the men. If you had control over one thing in your life, would you give it up?”

“Sadie, you can’t go on like this. Whatever happened when you first came to work at the Star, it doesn’t have to be like that. Let me show you.”

Disbelief made her gaze careen back to his. He couldn’t mean—

“Will you listen to reason?” he asked.

“You haven’t said anything reasonable.”

“You’re right. I was never good with words, but I’ll listen. Tell me to stop and I will.”

For every stride he moved closer, she took one back until the wall against her spine halted her. He planted one palm on the faded wallpaper next to her head. She waited for him to raise his other hand and hem her in. He didn’t. He’d given her a chance to escape.

She didn’t take it. She was too busy trying to stop herself from leaning into his strength. “I was fine before you came along, last week and a year ago on my farm.” Her growing anticipation made her thoughts tumble out uncensored. “Every time you show up, you kick the foundation from under everything I’ve struggled to build.”

He leaned down until his lips hovered over hers. “Let me make it up to you. Let me in, Sadie.”

She closed her eyes again. “I can’t.”

His mouth brushed hers, light as gossamer. She held her breath, waiting for him to deepen the kiss, hoping. The feathery touch disappeared. She knew without looking that he’d left as well. Out the window, the same way he’d arrived. The damned curtain flapped again.

Only with his overwhelming presence gone could she think clearly.

Noah still believed she’d been a whore, that she had syphilis. The disease held everyone, including Cora and Gertie, at bay. But not him. He wanted to come closer. That wasn’t her biggest problem. She was. She wanted the same.

CHAPTER 8

Noah swung
his legs over the Northern Star’s balcony. Using the gaps between the rough-cut siding, he climbed down. He halted in the alley entrance leading onto Front Street, mind and body still focused on the frustrating yet compelling woman he’d left upstairs. His tongue brushed his lips, savoring the taste of her, however faint.

He battled the urge to climb back into her room and kiss her soundly. He wasn’t sure how she’d react.

She retreated from him, but when she’d reached the wall, she’d chosen to stay there. She hadn’t told him to stop. Was she starting to trust him? Now was the time for him to retreat as well…but only on certain matters.

Digging into his pocket, he withdrew the bottle. It lay in his hand, a small and ordinary cylinder of brown glass. Was it medicine after all? Whatever it was, it held Sadie’s future.

A group of riders thundered by, cowboys whooping like hellions as they raced down the busy street amid shouts from those they endangered. Two women, with more face paint than clothing, called encouragements from the Star’s veranda. Behind them, a thin brakeman in soot-covered overalls shuffled through the saloon’s doors and joined the throng, heading toward his duties at the rail depot.