Capturing The Marshal's Heart (Escape From Texas) (16 page)

“Okay, only men who had the right price could buy your favors for a few hours.”

A concession?
Hope drove up her chin, and she met his gaze, searching for a sign of him softening his opinion.

With a roll of his shoulders, he stretched and hung his hands on the headboard railing.

Even as shaken as she was, she couldn’t ignore the defined muscles of his chest and the dark hair that ran down his taut— She shook away that distracting thought. “And only men who Miss Veronica personally knew to be gentlemen. She didn’t abide bullies or known drunks.” No matter what else happened, she had to make him understand she hadn’t lifted her skirts to a rough clientele. “We always had say over who was allowed into our rooms.”

“Really?” As his head shook, his eyebrows shot up. “How do you think that worked, from the profit angle, I mean? Doesn’t sound like any whorehouse I’ve ever been in.”

At the horrible epithet
whorehouse
, her spine stiffened and she inhaled deeply. “I told you, it wasn’t a—”

Slade ran a hand down his face and scooted to the edge of the mattress. “I heard you.” He swung his feet to the floor and reached for his long johns, jamming his feet into the legs. “But did you ever refuse a man she presented? Did you see any of the other ladies turn away a single customer?”

A knot settled in her stomach. She gripped the cloth in her lap and felt the weight of her freedom money. Funny, but the knowledge it was safe didn’t fill her with reassurance the way it used to. Awareness of what he was saying hit her hard, shaking her convictions.

Could she have said “not tonight” to Miss Veronica? If the ability to keep a man out of her room hadn’t been truly hers, then what
had
Jazzy been? Dread tightened the coiled knot. Slade couldn’t be right. He just couldn’t. “Like I said before, Miss Veronica checked them out first.”

His head jerked up and he glared, a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Come on, Jazzy. I’ve accepted the choice you made.” He stood and pulled up the long johns, fastening only enough buttons so the garment hung loosely on his hips.

The sight of his tight ass and muscular legs made her heart thump. She averted her gaze and struggled to answer him. “You think I had a choice?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Fancy clothes, nice surroundings. Why not?”

Ah, here was the truth of what he thought of her. With a heavy sigh, she drew up her knees and hugged them tightly, ignoring the pull in her hip as best she could. So much time had passed since she’d thought of her family and the reason her life changed. She steeled her thoughts against the worst of the memories and took a deep breath. “I had just turned fourteen and I wanted a special trip to town, without my younger brother and sister tagging along. Mama understood and shushed Papa when he complained about me looking for an excuse to delay my chores. I rode in a shiny horse cart with my best friend Amelia and her parents.” She glanced at Slade, but couldn’t hold his questioning gaze.

Through the dusty window, she spotted a mesquite bush silhouetted on a rise and focused on it as the sunlight strengthened and cast a golden hue. “I remember Amelia’s daddy treated us to sarsaparillas at the general store, and I bought penny candies for Timmy and Tess. All of a sudden, the store grew as dark as a moonless night and a horrible roar like I’d never heard clambered in our ears.

“The windows and doors rattled, and the merchant’s old dog, who always slept through the noisiest batch of children, started howling. A most god-awfulest sound that raised gooseflesh on my arms.” Right now, her skin reacted in the exact same way, and she rocked slightly in the straight-legged chair. The backs of her eyes burned. “All we could do was hold tight to each other and wait.”

Staring at the ceiling, she blinked hard and swallowed over the burning lump in her throat before continuing. “When we walked outside five minutes later, nothing was the same. The tornado had cut a path through town, ripping up half of the cemetery, but leaving the church whole.” She cleared her throat, fighting to get the words past the flow of hot tears. “When we reached my family’s farm, the only thing still standing was the chicken coop. I never saw or heard of my family again. From that day on, everything in my life changed.”

His feet padded across the plank floor. “Aw, Jazzy, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“So, you thought I had a choice.” Shoulders squared and chin raised, she dashed the back of a hand across her wet cheeks and stood. The petticoat slid from her grasp and hit the floor with a dull thud that barely registered on her senses. “I’ll tell you what choice I had. Mama and Papa never told us about any of their relations. I was too old and gawky to be adopted into a loving family. Most wanted a sweet baby or a cute young child. But a farmer, a Mr. Standhold, wanted help for his wife with the kitchen duties and their six children.” At the mention of his name, her stomach jolted and she pressed an arm across it.

“The concerned minister sent me ten miles outside of town to a dirty, cramped farmhouse and into the care of a good church-going family. Ha! I wasn’t there a week before upstanding citizen Benjamin Standhold starting pressing himself against me at the stove or pinching my behind while I served supper.”

Slade edged closer and reached out a hand, his brows bunched tight. “You don’t have to do this, Jazzy.”

“Oh, yes, I do.” She leaned away and tossed her head, looking him square in the eye. “You told me I had to face facts. Well, maybe you need a dose of the same medicine. I went to Mrs. Standhold, but she just told me to quit flauntin’ myself and berated me being a jezebel. Back then, I didn’t even know the meaning of the word. I used every trick I could think of to avoid that horrible man.” Those feelings of helplessness from that time threatened to engulf her. Weight pressed like an anvil sitting square in the middle of her chest, and she choked back a sob. “But he wouldn’t leave me alone. So, what was I to do? Where was I supposed to turn?” She ran her fingers through her hair.

“On the family’s first trip into town, I ran away. I stayed hidden for two days before the ladies at Miss Veronica’s organized their own search party, then brought me back to the Pleasure Emporium. At first, they treated me like a pampered pet, giving me cast-off clothes and bringing me food from downstairs. Then they convinced Miss Veronica I could earn my keep by sewing for them.”

She watched his face closely, needing to see his reaction to what came next. “That worked for a while—until men started asking for a session with the young one, the untouched filly, the virgin. Finally, Miss Veronica couldn’t ignore the enormous amounts of money being offered. Right before my fifteenth birthday, the time came to earn my keep. A bride auction was held, the first of a half dozen or so events until my novelty wore off, and rights to my body were purchased for a princely sum. So, as gently as they could, the ladies at Miss Veronica’s taught me what I needed to know to entertain my special customers.”

Chapter Twelve

“Shit, Jazzy, I’ve heard enough.” Slade stalked across the room and braced his hands along the sides of the window.

The sight of his retreating back turned into the picture of him turning away for good. A pain stabbed deep into her heart. He’d become such a big part of her life in such a short time. Suddenly, her legs wobbled, and she slumped on the mattress, unable to tear away her gaze from his broad back. “I understand.” Her defeated words tasted like dirt in her mouth. Of course, he’d turn away. A natural reaction to something unclean.

He looked over a shoulder, eyes narrowed to a dangerous slit. “You understand what?”

“Your reaction is natural. I understand my past is a lot to take in.”

“My reaction?” With deliberate movements, he turned and leaned a shoulder against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “What do you mean?”

Holding tight rein on her deepening disappointment, she waved a hand in his direction. “Look at you. A few truths about my life, and you’re gazing through the closest window, fixin’ on how you’re going to escape.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m thinking.”

His words rumbled low with warning, but she ignored the tone. “In my business, I’ve had to learn to read people. Everything about your body is screaming ‘let me out.’”

“That so?”

“Not answering my questions is another clue.” Gathering her courage, she stepped quickly across the wooden planks and looked up into his frowning face. “How would you act if someday an old customer recognized me and approached us on a street?”

Dark eyes flashed, and he stiffened, his hands drawing into tight fists. “That wouldn’t be a problem.”

She cupped his fists and ran her thumb along the hard ridge of his knuckles, relishing the strength in Slade’s hands. “These fisted hands prove you wrong. I’m not sure how you’d react to a meeting like that.” A sigh escaped, and her shoulders slumped. “All I wanted was to put the life at Miss Veronica’s behind me and see a bit of the world.”

“Don’t forget mountains.” He winked and crooked his lips into a grin.

At his words, her heart squeezed tight. She raised a hand to cup the jaw of this dear man who remembered. “But that simple wish isn’t to be.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll never be rid of that life. You saw right through my ritzy traveling suit and figured out who I truly was.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Darlin’, if I remember that first stage stop correctly, your behavior was anything but shy. That was a pretty good clue.”

His voice calling her a sweetling name warmed her insides. The scene flashed in her head as if it had just happened and realization hit her senses. She ducked her head and mumbled, “I just wanted the freedom to choose. To make my own decisions. That’s what I’ve wanted for a really long time.”

“But you said you’d had that right all along.”

“I guess I didn’t, not really. You’ve shown me the truth.” She laid her hand on his chest and drew power from the coiled strength beneath her fingers. Facing a body’s worst fear drained away the energy right down to her toes. “I was taught that the ladies at Miss Veronica’s were better than the soiled doves in the saloons or the streetwalkers on South Presa and the crib women lining the back alleys of Durango Street.” She wished she could cuddle up to his chest and stay protected in his arms forever. “But you are right, Slade. I’m only a whore with loose morals and that’s what I’ll always be.”

“No!” With a sudden grab, his hands circled her waist and nestled her body close to his. “You’re more than that.”

She shook her head and averted her gaze. “Even that grungy bandit saw who I was. That’s why he singled me out and shuttled me into the back room.” The truth sat like a lump of cold oatmeal in the pit of her stomach. “He knew a sullied woman when he saw one.” The pressure of Slade’s broad finger under her chin lifted her head upwards.

“That’s not the woman I see. My Jazzy knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. She’s smart and figures a way out of the worst situations. Like tearing those petticoat strips to leave along the trail that led me to you. When faced with tough decisions, you thought of others and worked out the right answer. I’ll bet you didn’t resist his orders because you figured you could stand up to that bandit’s advances better than the other women.”

A flush ran over her skin at his compliments. She’d treasure these words always. “Well, stagecoach rides like we had don’t happen every day. But those women didn’t want much to do with me before the bandits scared them silly.” Her shoulders slumped and she shook her head. “Maybe I was a fool to think I could have a normal life.”

“Forget what those ladies thought. Who says what’s normal?” He raised his hands and rested his wrists on her shoulders, tangling his fingers in the tousled length of her hair. “Will I be living a normal life after I turn in my badge?”

Turn in his badge?
She sucked in a breath. “You’re not still going to be a marshal?”

“This hunt was my last job as a law enforcement officer.” He shook his head, gazing deeply into her eyes. “But I’ll always wear a gun. And I won’t stop looking over my shoulder or scanning every public room I enter for a suspicious action. I’ll probably always sit with my back to the wall in any public establishment. The worry is real that an angry family member will hunt me down to avenge a brother, nephew, uncle, or cousin—someone they still think is innocent of whatever crime I arrested them for, despite evidence and a conviction to the contrary.”

At the thought of someone hunting Slade, her stomach clenched. She grabbed tight onto his forearms. “I hadn’t thought of that. How awful for you.”

“I have a past, too.” His gaze bored into hers. “My life as a marshal hasn’t always been played out by the rules. I’m not proud of all of the arrests I’ve completed. Jazzy, I’ve killed men. Men who were only looking to stay alive another day. Because my hand drew out my pistol quicker or because I knew the lay of the land better, I’m the one who walked away. And I can’t swear all those men were guilty.” He leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers. “Can you live with that?”

Almost afraid to speak her question out loud, she inhaled a deep breath and held it for several seconds. “Are you asking me to?”

“I’m not much for promises.” His words were slow and thick. “The one thing I know is that I can’t watch you ride out of my life.”

A chill ran over her skin at the impact of his words. She shivered. “And I don’t want to. I only want to be with you.”

He ran his hands up and down her arms. “You’re cold. Let’s get back in bed.” With an arm draped over her shoulders, he guided her across the room. He slid under the blanket and scooted across the mattress.

She could only stare, trying to catch her breath over what she’d heard. Slade had just proclaimed his feelings. He wanted her with him, to remain in his life.

“Jazzy.” His voice was stronger as he held open the blanket.

The view of his broad chest and taut stomach muscles was irresistible. Her fingers itched to tangle in his dark chest hair. She took the final step then slipped underneath the blanket.