Authors: Cynthia Woolf
“Now, Mr. Grayson, I suggest that you take your leave before I have to shoot you for trespassing.” He touched the Colt on his hip.
“One last chance Sarah, come home with me. Come back to where you belong.” He waved his hand taking in his surroundings. “Not this God forsaken place in the middle of nowhere.”
“This is my home. I’m not leaving but you are. Get in that buggy and get off my property or,” she grabbed John’s gun from his holster and aimed it at William, “I swear I’ll shoot you myself.”
“You’ll regret this, Sarah.”
Furious, he leaped into the buggy. Standing, reins were taken in both hands and lifted above his head. In one savage motion he brought them down upon both horses. The start was so violent Grayson would have been thrown backward all the way to the ground had the reins not stopped him. The yank on the reins, of course, brought the team to a halt.
Grayson’s rage had not subsided be he did manage to regain some self control. This time he sat down and slapped the horses smartly. He drove them in a tight right turn and headed for the front gate. Taking the buggy whip from beside the seat he cracked both horses twice before even reaching the gate.
Sarah let her arms fall and her head with them. Tears ran down her face. “I’ll take that now.” He gently took the gun from her.
She looked up at him, tears streaked her beautiful face. “John, I’m sorry, so very sorry. I should have told you, but I was afraid….”
“You should have told me. It was my decision to make. Me to decide if and how your background would affect me.” He spat the words at her, knowing they would hurt. He wanted to hurt her, like he hurt now. She didn’t trust him.
“Everything I told you was true. I never said I was married. I let you assume it, which is just as bad. Lee and I were days from being wed. But they didn’t care…his superiors…they wouldn’t even allow us the time to do it that day. It’s the God damned army and the war that kept me from being a bride. That caused me to live in fear every time I went anywhere in New York. And Mrs. Selby knew. I didn’t lie to her. She knew everything but you’re right, I should have told you. And you’re probably right to reject me.”
“I didn’t say I was rejecting you. Nor would I have rejected you had I known, but you didn’t give me the chance.”
“But you are. You’re pushing me away, I can feel it. I’d hoped this baby would bring us closer. But I can’t overcome the ghosts of the dead. Dorothy will always have your heart. And now this on top of that. I don’t know if I can live like that. Live in a house where I’m not wanted.”
“Sarah…”
She went inside, up to their room and slammed the door.
The smell of burning cookies came from the kitchen.
He closed his eyes. “Well, hell.”
* * *
Yes, she’d been wrong to withhold the information. Yes, it should have been his decision but by his own account he wouldn’t have rejected her. So why was he now?
She’d come out of their bedroom long enough to cook and serve supper, then retreated there once again. Now it was bedtime and she expected John to come up soon, after he put the girls to bed.
She got out her nightgown and robe and put them on.
He came into the room. “The girls wondered where you were at supper. I told them you weren’t feeling well.”
“I guess you didn’t lie to them. Anger is a form of not feeling well.”
“What do you have to be angry about? I’m the one who was made a fool of.” He sat on the bed and took off his boots.
“Made a fool of? What haven’t I done that you asked for now or in your letters to Mrs. Selby? What aren’t you getting out of this farce of a marriage? You get to bed me every night. I’ve given you and your employees palatable food to eat. Our daughters are best friends and doing better than either of them were before. And we have another child on the way. So what aren’t you getting?”
“I’m not getting a wife I can trust.” He stood, took off his shirt.
“And that’s what’s between us, keeping you from loving me? A lack of trust? Well, I wish I could trust you, with my heart, but you’d just stomp on it like you do to everyone who tries to get close to you. Maybe Katy would’ve talked if you’d spent some time with her.”
“That’s enough,” he yelled. “Leave Katy out of this.”
She took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is about you and me, not our girls.”
“Yes, it is.” He reached for his belt and undid it, dropping his pants to the floor.
“You might as well leave those on. If you think we’re having sex tonight, you’re dead wrong.”
“Why? Because you’re angry?”
“Yes. Dammit. I don’t want you anywhere near me. I’m leaving.”
“And going where?”
“I’ll sleep in MaryAnn’s room. She and Katy share Katy’s room as it is.”
“That’s the puppies’ room.”
She stared at him. Couldn’t believe what he’d just said. “Did you just tell me I couldn’t sleep in another room because it belonged to the puppies?”
“Yes.”
She laughed. Try as she might, she couldn’t help it. It was so stupid. This whole situation was stupid.
When she looked up at John, he had a smile on his face, too.
“What are we going to do about this? Neither one of us was very open or very trusting. You about Dorothy and me about…well me. If you can’t love me, why should I stay? Tell me, John. Why?”
“For our girls.”
She bit back the tears. “For our girls.”
“And the baby that you carry.”
“Can you tell me that we should really be bringing a baby into this mess? That we should subject another person to our mock marriage.”
He sat down on the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands. “There has to be a way. Come to bed.”
“No.” She tied her robe. “I’m sleeping in the doghouse, where I belong.” She took one of the lamps, walked quietly out of the room and down the hall to MaryAnn’s bedroom. The room was empty, as she suspected it would be. The pups were sleeping with their little mistresses. She tiptoed across the hall and opened the door to the girl’s bedroom. Sure enough there were both little girls and the two dogs sleeping soundly. One of the pups raised its head but went back to sleep when he saw she presented no threat.
Sarah smiled, closed the door and went back across the hall and crawled into the bed.
* * *
She woke to strong arms picking her up out of bed. “What? What are you doing?” she asked as she automatically put her arms around his neck. “John, what are you doing?”
“We may be many things to each other and we may be angry with each other, but you are my wife and you will sleep in my bed. No one is going to suspect we aren’t the happily married couple that we were earlier today.” He carried her back to their room and dropped her on the bed. He had his drawers on so at least he wasn’t running around the house naked.
“I’m not going to make love to you,” she said.
“I’m not asking you to.” He got into bed and pulled her into his side.
She didn’t stop him. Didn’t ask what the heck he thought he was doing. She understood. He was used to her. Used to her sleeping with him. He couldn’t sleep without her.
It was a start.
CHAPTER 7
It was a brutal, bloody trek back to Golden City. Upon arrival at the stables the owner of the team threatened to shoot Grayson when he saw the condition of the horses.
“I will never rent you another animal and if I even see you get near a horse you will be the one tasting this whip!”
Grayson soothed his rage with a five dollar gold piece and then went straight to the Chicago Saloon and a glass of the rot gut they called whiskey.
After his third whiskey a plan began to emerge. He would have Sarah or no one would. He called the barkeep over.
“Where would I go to find men to do a job for me?”
“What kind of job?”
“One they won’t ask questions about.”
“Go to Spurs. Two streets north, in the alley on the right side of the street. Tell the bartender, Joe sent you.”
“Thank you, my good man.” He gave Joe a dollar for his trouble and his silence. Then he headed out the door to Spurs.”
Spurs was as disreputable a place as William had ever been in. No one looked up when he entered. Preferring instead to keep their heads down and concentrate on their drinks. There were no girls and no music. This was a place for drinking. Period.
The barkeep came over. “What’s yer poison?”
“Whiskey. Joe sent me.”
Two of the men at a nearby table perked up and looked his way.
“What ya lookin’ fer?”
“I have a job I need done. No questions asked.”
“What’s it pay?” asked the barkeep.
“Fifty dollars now and another fifty when it’s done.”
“Well now, me and Bobby Ray can do just about any job you got,” said one of the men from the table.
“Is there some place we can talk?”
“Sure. Clancy we need the backroom,” the man called to the barkeep.
“You know where it is.”
“Come with me, Mister….”
“Smith. William Smith.”
“Well, Mr. Smith, come with us. I’m sure we can do business.”
* * *
The more Sarah thought about it, the more she liked the idea. John had stopped making love to her. The only time they touched was when they slept. John still insisted on holding her while they slept. They barely talked except at meals when it was needed to keep up appearances. She was sure that Bertha knew things were strained between them even if the cowboys didn’t. Bertha was with Sarah every day.
“When are you two going to make up?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the fact that the tension around here is thick enough to cut with a knife. About the fact that the only time either of you smile is with the girls and then only when the other one of you isn’t around.”
“It’s going to be fine Bertha. We’re just going through a rough patch.”
“Well, I hope you get through it soon. This past week has been hell. Everyone is walking on eggshells around you. Even the girls feel it.”
“Oh, Bertha, tell me you’re exaggerating about the girls. We’ve been trying to keep them away from this.”
“Well, yer doin’ a piss poor job of it.”
“Oh, God. I’ll talk to John. The girls are more important than anything.”
“I should hope so.”
“Your point is made.”
“Hrumpt.”
That night Sarah put the girls to bed and then put on her robe. She’d been wearing a nightgown since the fight. A reminder that they were no longer intimate. Tonight she wore only the robe. She was going to fight fire with fire.
She waited up for John. He’d been making it a habit to work in his office until he was sure she was asleep. Tonight would be different.
John came into the bedroom after midnight. Sarah was sitting up in the middle of the bed with her robe open to the waist. He stopped in the middle of the room.
“What are you doing up?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“Put on some clothes.”
“Fine.” She shoved the robe off one of her shoulders and looked up at him. His eyes smoldered. She did the other shoulder. The robe now pooled at her elbows and her breasts were exposed.
“Cover up or I won’t be responsible.”
In answer she released her arms from the robe.
He was on her in two strides, pulling her up from the bed until she stood in his arms
“I warned you.”
His mouth crashed down on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and grasped the back of his head keeping him at her lips.
She backed off, gasping for air. “So you did.”
“Did what?”
“Warn me.”
“I did.”
She began unbuttoning his shirt. “When are you going to forgive me?”
“I already have.”
“Then why have you stayed angry?”
“I’m angry at myself for the way I treated you. I was no different than the people in New York. I was ashamed.”
She ran her hands up and down his chest. “I understand and I should have told you. I should never have assumed that Mrs. Selby would have told you. I’m so sorry John. I’m sorry that you found out the way you did.”
“No, I’m sorry. I should….”
She placed her fingers on his lips.
“Shhh. It doesn’t matter. Just make love to me. I’ve missed you.”
In answer he picked her up and placed her gently on the bed. Then he rid himself of his remaining clothes and came down next to her.
He tried to be gentle with her. She knew he did but she would have none of it. She rolled him to his back and impaled herself on his hard length.
“Sarah!”
“I don’t want gentle. I’ve waited too long I want you now.” And she began to ride him.