Outlaw for Christmas (9781101573020) (13 page)

“I don't understand.”

“Exactly. You don't understand.” He turned his head in her direction, and not even the shadow of his new wide-brimmed hat could dim the intense blue of his eyes. “You think your father would have let a sixteen-year-old boy who'd been sent west for stealing live in the barn? Was he so enthused about one orphan that he'd have taken in two?”

“Maybe.”

Noah snorted. “You know better. I was wild even before I came out here. My life in New York hardened me long before I was ten, and while it wasn't easy, I'm glad of it now. Because without that life behind me, I'd never have survived what came after.”

Tears sparked Ruth's eyes, and Noah touched her cheek. “I had nothing, Ruth. And I wasn't going to ruin your life by making you have nothing, too.”

“I wouldn't have cared.”

“But I would have.”

The quiet conviction in Noah's voice left Ruth without anything more to say. Frustrated, she clenched her hands. What was past was past; there was no going back. However, there were so many things she did not understand about how that past had come to be.

“Why didn't you tell the Aid Society about Simon Lane?”

“When would I have done that?”

“They came every year to check on us.”

“Maybe you, Princess. Not me.”

She blinked, shocked. “But . . . but . . . they were supposed to check on all of us.”

“I'm sure they had good intentions, but knowing Lane, he didn't confide the truth about where he lived. He wouldn't have appreciated any do-gooders telling him how to treat his servants.”

“But you were supposed to be a son, not a servant. Find a family, not . . .” She made a helpless gesture.

“Not fists? I knew where I was going, and I had an idea what I'd find. The same sort of thing I found waiting for me all of my life—until I found you.”

Ruth's heart turned over with love. She wanted to pull Noah close and hold him safe forever. How had she managed to survive ten years without him? Because she'd survived; she had not lived.

The lust she felt for him still hummed beneath the surface whenever he was near and even when he wasn't. But the love she'd had for him as a child had deepened. Every time she heard him laugh, saw him smile, felt his touch on her arm, her hand, her back, something inside her shifted, dropped and grew.

He needed her. Just as no one had ever defended her, no one had ever defended him. Because of his size, his appearance, his demeanor, no one trusted him. As a result of the way he'd been forced to live, everyone believed the worst. But Noah was trying to start a better life, to make a place for himself in Kelly Creek, and Ruth would do everything in her power to ascertain he was safe here and happy. Because with him at her side that was how she would always feel.

“Why did you let Lane hurt you? Why didn't you fight back?”

“For all you know, I deserved it.”

“No one deserves to be hit!”

“Lane thought that I did.”

“Lane was obviously a demented fool.”

Her answer surprised a laugh out of him. Noah shook his head. “Maybe I did fight back. Maybe I fought back by killing him.”

Ruth put her fingers against his chin and turned his face to hers. “No, you didn't.”

She pressed her cold lips to his warmer ones. He needed her to show him that someone cared, someone trusted, someone believed. That someone had always been her.

Ruth poured all she knew, all she felt, all she had ever wanted, into that kiss. She licked the seam of his lips. He moaned, allowing her to delve within the warm cavern of his mouth. The steam of his breath shrouded her cheeks, then the moisture froze on her skin. Without warning, a shudder racked Ruth from her head to her toe.

Noah pulled away. “You're cold.”

She shook her head. Cold hadn't been the reason for her shudder, yet even now she began to shiver.

Noah jumped from the wagon and pulled her into his arms. Since that was the place she most wanted to be, Ruth let him. Though her toes were like ice and the wind shot up her skirt, Noah's heat warmed her wherever they touched.

At the door he set her down. “Go inside. I don't want you to get sick.”

“I rarely get sick.”

Noah pressed a kiss against her brow. She snuggled closer, then lifted her mouth and closed her eyes.

“No more of that. We'll be frozen at the lips if we keep this up. Go on in,” he urged.

She opened her eyes to his soft, gentle smile. The sight of him brought wonder to her soul. Ruth couldn't believe that Noah was her suitor. He had bought her a new dress, lace underclothes, and the most beautiful necklace she'd ever known, then taken her to dinner. But those were only things. The greatest gift was that he was here, and she did not want this night to end. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to kiss him and more.

Her wishes must have shown on her face, because he put on a falsely stern countenance and pointed at the door. “Go.”

“Only if you meet me on the porch for snow candy in a half hour.”

His slow nod made her skip into the house. Once inside, the warmth made her cheeks sting and her hands burn. Her mind full of memories, her body lethargic from the warm air on her cold skin, she didn't notice her father until he spoke.

“Did you have a good time?”

She could tell by his voice he'd been drinking a while even before she saw the half-empty glass in one hand and the half-full bottle in the other. But his question was civil at least, so she answered.

“Yes. Very.”

“Leon was here after you left.”

Ruth's happiness dissolved like a snowflake near a flame. “I suppose he told you what he discovered about Noah.”

Her father nodded and took a sip from his glass. “I've been sitting here wondering what I should do.”

“Do? What is there to do? What's done is done.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, which meant she should be silent. When her father was like this, it didn't pay to argue with him. Not that she'd ever argued. She'd always been too afraid that if she caused any sort of trouble, she'd be thrown out, with nowhere to go.

That worry had ruled her life. Even in the orphanage, she'd been quiet and still, not wanting to be noticed for fear she'd displease and then be sent away.

So she'd spent her life appearing meek, behaving mild, but inside her temper was as hot as her hair. She was not going to allow anyone to condemn Noah for something he had not done. Not even her father.

“What happened to Noah was a crime. Against him. He did nothing wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he said so, and I believe him.”

Her father blinked, obviously surprised at her outburst. “What if I don't?”

“You'll look like a fool then because everyone at the restaurant where Leon accosted us stood up for Noah.”

“Really?” her father murmured.

“Really. Even if they hadn't, if you believed him, everyone else would. If you smooth it over, Father, the town will follow.”

He thought about her words for a moment, then nodded. “I suspect you're right. But I'd like folks to accept him for himself and not because I make them.”

“They have.”

“Interesting. He does have an aura of command about him. Folks like that. I guess he'll do, after all.”

“Do? For what?”

“For your husband.”

“He hasn't asked, Father.”

“If I tell him to he will.”

“Don't you dare!”

“I thought you wanted him.” His lips twisted. “I can get him for you.”

“Just once I'd like someone to want
me.
Ruth O'Leary.”

“But you aren't Ruth O'Leary.”

“I am.” She tapped her chest. “In here.”

Ruth braced herself, prepared for the storm.

“Hoyden,” he muttered. “Devil hair. Temper to match, even though you do a fair job of hiding it. Never liked your hair.”

Ruth's eyes burned. She'd known as much, so why let the truth hurt her. She would never please him. She couldn't change the color of her hair or the fire in her heart. So why keep trying?

He finished the whiskey in his glass, then poured another from the bottle. “You'll never be Susan; that's for certain. And it's true, you'll never really be a Kelly. But you're all I've got. So I guess you'll have to do.”

He turned his back, dismissing her. What had she expected? That standing up for herself would earn his respect when doing everything he'd ever wished of her and then some had only earned his scorn?

Well, at least she hadn't earned a boot out the door.

Ruth trudged up the stairs. Her earlier happiness gone, the chill had settled into her bones, leaving her achy and tired.

She stripped off her clothes, planning to don an older, warmer dress. But she was so cold, her teeth began to chatter.

A glance at the bed revealed that Tildy had already put the warming pan beneath the sheets, and the pull of the heated covering was too much to resist.

“I'll just crawl in until I stop shivering,” she told herself. But before she'd tucked the cover beneath her chin, Ruth was asleep.

***

Stars blinked in the sky. The sheen of the moon nearly blinded Noah as it bounced off the bright white ground and into his eyes.

For the tenth time he glanced at the door and sighed. It was a half hour past the first half hour and still no Ruth. No one answered his knocks, even though light still flickered behind the windows. He didn't like it.

She'd said she believed him. She'd kissed him and touched him and wanted to do more. But deep in his heart Noah feared that in
her
heart she knew the truth.

He was a murderer. If not of Lane, then others. How could such a taint not be visible if someone looked closely enough? And when Ruth looked into his eyes, Noah could feel her in his heart.

He paced the porch, his boots flipping fluffy snow onto the legs of his pants. How had Ruth stood waiting for him every Christmas Eve? He'd have gone mad.

Noah banged on the door again and waited. But not a sound came from inside the house. “That's it,” he muttered, and turned the knob.

Unlocked; lucky for him. The only way he knew to get past a locked door was to blow it wide open. He didn't think that course was advisable here. But Noah couldn't wait any longer. Ruth had come every year to the train station. There was no way she would have missed making snow candy with him unless something was wrong.

Noah didn't trust Robert Kelly. He cared far too much for things and not enough for people. Especially Ruth.

In the parlor, Kelly slept on the floor in front of the dying fire. A glass near one hand and an empty bottle near the other revealed why he had not answered Noah's knock.

Noah's teeth began to itch. That usually meant disaster lay right around the corner. The last time he'd felt so uneasy, all hell had broken loose, and he'd ended up gut shot and on the run.

Those days were behind him. He had to quit thinking like an outlaw and start thinking like a gentleman banker. He'd passed the first test tonight. Part of his past had come out, a part he'd prefer to forget, and no one had minded. In fact, Ruth seemed to care about him even more than before.

If that's true, then where is she?

Noah ignored the voice and stepped into the hall. A loud snore from the back of the house explained why Tildy hadn't answered his knock, either. The woman had no doubt been working too hard for the holidays.

Glancing up the steps, Noah hesitated. If Ruth's father caught him in her room, Noah could meet his shotgun. Although in regard to Kelly, who knew what the man would do. Noah wasn't in a mood to gamble, but the pull of Ruth was stronger than any fear.

Quietly, he went up the stairs and quickly found her. Pale as ice beneath the pink quilt, her lips appeared almost colorless in contrast to the riot of red hair tumbling about her face. Concerned when he could not detect a single breath, Noah crossed the room.

Her breathing shallow, she was deeply asleep. He'd worn her out. She might insist she was strong, but an eve in the elements and the scene in town had exhausted her. He'd never forgive himself if she became ill because of him.

Unable to resist, Noah leaned over and kissed her pale lips. They were warm, supple, responsive.

He raised his head, and her eyes fluttered open. “Noah? Did you just kiss me?”

“Go back to sleep.”

Her mouth curved. She stretched her arms over her head, and the quilt shifted to reveal virginal white skin trimmed in black lace. His body responded, a slow, sensual tumble in his belly, sharp and sure farther south.

What in hell had he been thinking to buy her such things? Now he'd never be able to think of her any other way. Even when she was dressed in her ugly Susan gowns, he'd imagine the black of the lace against the white of her skin.

Noah licked suddenly dry lips. Every time he was near Ruth he struggled with the urge to put his mouth where it did not belong.

“
Mmm
,” she murmured, and his nerves jittered at the carnal sound. Her gaze, unfocused, dreamy, rested on his face. “Just like a prince, you kissed me awake.”

He wanted to do a lot more than kiss her, and because of that, he said, “And just like a princess, you can go back to sleep.”

Her eyes drooped closed. “Not a princess,” she muttered. “Hoyden, my father calls me. Devil hair. Never good enough for him.”

Noah's mouth tightened. Lustful thoughts fled in the face of a sudden anger. He would have a talk with her father. If the man couldn't say anything nice, Noah would make certain he shut up.

“Don't worry about him. Worry about me.”

“Have been for ten years.”

The area around Noah's heart warmed. No one ever worried about him. Except Ruth. He didn't deserve her. But he wasn't going to give her up.