Eliza stood in the kitchen unhappily surveying the burned and shriveled beans and the two small black objects that had once been biscuits. He’d been in such a hurry to leave—and truth be told she’d been so busy trying to act as though she didn’t care—that they had forgotten about dinner. Actually she was the one who’d forgotten about dinner and had rushed him into making love instead.
She tried one of the beans but it was too tough. The biscuits were as hard as rocks. She ate one of the tomatoes. Then ate the other. She felt miserable. Plus she was hungry. Really, really hungry again. The two tiny tomatoes only made it worse.
She had quite forgotten to discuss the sale of her property with Daniel. How could she have neglected that? If he didn’t buy it, probably no one ever would.
And she was so hungry again! She’d used up that bit of flour and shortening and every last one of the ripe green beans. On top of that, he couldn’t wait to leave her. Way in the past there’d been a couple of men she’d sent packing after she’d had what she wanted from them, and now Daniel, whom she actually had some feelings for and wanted to stay, had run off just as soon as he was done.
She sat down intending to have a good cry, but was interrupted by a loud crash outside. She leapt to her feet and hurried to the door and threw it open. An enormous steer loomed in the darkness, eyeing her balefully. She gave a cry of surprise, and it turned and walked away. Behind it, another steer walked slowly past the gate, which lay on the ground. The horse had also escaped and was cantering around the front yard.
She whistled and called the horse. He turned and gave her a long look. He appeared to be thinking whether to make good his escape or obey his mistress. She whistled again, and he decided—thank goodness—to come to her. She tied him to the front doorknob as the hitching post lay disintegrating on the ground.
Trying to chase the two steers back into the enclosure she yelled, “Shoo. Go back.” She waved her arms. The animals simply walked away from her and a third walked past the gate while she tried to chase the first two back into the enclosure. She tried to scare them into going back by waving her skirt and loudly yelling, “Shoo! Shoo!” She scared them all right. They bolted away from her and headed off into the darkness.
“Doggone it!” she yelled, charging at the third escapee. It turned and went back into the enclosure.
The gate lay in the mud. She tried to pick it up with just her fingers, but it was much too heavy. It took all her strength to lift it. She leaned it on one of the posts so it covered most of the entrance to the enclosure.
She headed toward the house, planning to find some rope and hoping none of the cattle would knock the gate over again while she was gone. There was dirt and cattle dung all over the front of her only decent gown.
She kicked the fallen hitching post. “Doggone it,” she yelled. “I hate this!” The horse started and pulled the door open, which spooked him. He bolted, pulling the hinges away from the doorframe and dragging the door with him. Trying to escape the door, he ran frantically around the front yard. Equally frantic, Eliza ran after him breathlessly calling, “Whoa, whoa!” Lordy but she was coming to hate animals.
The horse kept running in a desperate circle until the door caught on the For Sale sign. Eliza managed to take hold of the bridle as the sign toppled over, startling the horse again.
“Ouch! Stop! Whoa!” He dragged Eliza around the yard a couple times before he calmed down.
“Damn it,” Eliza told him. “I have absolutely had it with living here.”
An hour later, two head of cattle were still off somewhere, but Eliza had the enclosure gate tied in place with a rope and the locked front door standing where it belonged, although a push would send it crashing over. A disheveled and muddy Eliza Dunbro climbed onto the horse. Never mind that that she was in a filthy dress—it would still be dark when she came back, no one would see her.
* * * * *
Daniel cursed himself. He could be in bed with Eliza, should be in fact. He was certain, now that he thought about it, that she had been upset when he left. At the time he’d been so filled with disgust with himself for using his will to compel her to desire him that he’d simply taken her coolness to be anger.
She wasn’t like the other women he’d had through the years. There was something about her that called to him and, like a fool, he had spoiled it. He would never forgive himself.
He hadn’t taken her blood this time. What had come over him? The blood lust had been there, but it had been overwhelmed by more human desires, desires he had not felt as strongly as this for years. And never in his life, neither as the human he had once been nor as the strange monster he was now, had he felt such a powerful attraction to another being.
His head in his hands, Daniel groaned. If he was confused about what he felt for Eliza, he was even more distressed that he had misused and hurt her. He tried to console himself. She would remember nothing of what they had done tonight. Before he’d left he’d willed her to forget the whole encounter. Unlike last night when he only compelled her to forget that he’d taken her blood.
He wished he could will her to forget him entirely. A monster like him could be no good for a nice woman like her. He hunched his shoulders morosely. Tomorrow at nightfall he would leave town. He would try to forget her, if that was possible.
* * * * *
When Eliza entered the hotel, the clerk was snoring softly in a battered armchair behind the desk. She tiptoed over and looked in the guest book. There was his name, Daniel Hastings, in a beautiful, old-fashioned script. There was no indication of which room number was his. There were a few crude Xs above his signature and next to each one a crabbed hand had filled in the names of the customer.
Miss Susan had once described the rooms at the hotel. Number one was the barkeeper’s, number two was where she entertained and lived and the other four were for guests. Numbers three and four were for cowboys and they had nothing but bunk beds in them. Five was kept for visitors a little wealthier than the cowhands and occasionally for local newlyweds. Six, the owner’s pride and joy, was kept for wealthy visitors to town and, as wealthy visitors almost never came to Haley, it was almost never used.
“You should see it,” Miss Susan had whispered. “It’s beautiful enough for a king or a queen. It’s got a Turkish carpet on the floor and all the furniture is carved so pretty, and there’s even a big mirror over the bureau. If I could entertain in there, I would make a whole lot more money.”
Since Eliza had spoken to Miss Susan outside the saloon that sunny day, most of the good women of Haley would no longer speak to her. She was as sick and tired of small-town rectitude as she was of trying to run her little ranch. Daniel just plain had to buy her place, he just had to, or she’d be stuck here for the rest of her life. She shook her head hard, willing any other thoughts about him away.
She tiptoed up the stairs as quickly as she could, determinedly ignoring the voices in her head telling her that not a single soul in town would ever speak to her as long as she lived if they knew she’d been sneaking around the hotel at night. The voices added that Daniel might shut the door in her face, that he might think she was mad. Or maybe he was asleep already and would be annoyed at being disturbed.
She knocked gently on the door marked six. After a nerve-racking minute it opened, and Daniel stood there, his shirt open, staring at her.
“We, um, we forgot something,” she said, trying to avoid looking at his pale, chiseled chest. Did he have to look so appetizing? It made it hard to think straight.
He continued staring a few more seconds, and then he said, “We forgot?”
“Yes.” This was very awkward. Why was he staring at her as though she were a ghost?
After a few moments of hesitation he stepped aside, motioning her to enter. “What am I thinking, leaving you to stand in the hall? Forgive me. Come in.”
She nodded and entered. For a moment she was distracted from her intention. The room was indeed elaborately furnished with purple velvet curtains, a scarlet oriental carpet on the floor and carved furniture. An oil lamp glowed dimly on one table.
Daniel motioned her to a chair and she sat down, while he stood beside the chair opposite hers.
“Would you care for some brandy?” She saw there was a bottle on the table and one glass. If he had been drinking, he’d been doing so alone. She sniffed, not a hint of perfume in the air. Not that it was any of her business. She shouldn’t give a hoot what he did or with whom. The fact was she did. She cared, desperately.
“No, thank you,” she said. He nodded slightly and stood, arms folded, studying her. She could not imagine what he was thinking, but being this close to him was distracting.
“I came.” She cleared her throat a little. She was nervous but didn’t want it to show in her voice. “I came because I thought you might want to buy my property and I, um, well, I’d like to sell it real soon.”
“I see.” Did he sound disappointed? Had he been hoping she would say something else? There was a disconcerting pause. “Very well, I’ll buy it. Send me the papers and the price.”
“Oh.” Now she didn’t know what to say. Her stomach grumbled. “You left without supper,” she blurted out.
He took a step back and his face looked stricken. “I wasn’t thinking. How could I be so rude? Please forgive me. I’m sure you provided a fine feast.” He sounded truly upset.
“Well,” she said, wanting to console him. “It wasn’t all that fine. And it got burned to a crisp. It was a…um…a memorable visit anyway.”
He didn’t say anything, but raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
“The…” Her face grew hot. “The, um, the things we did…very enjoyable.”
Yes,” he said gravely. She thought he looked a little puzzled. “You mean the return of your cattle?”
“What? No. I mean what we did after that. All those things we did…” He looked alarmed. For a moment she wondered if he expected her to think it all perfectly ordinary.
“Some things were new to me,” she said shyly.
“I hope they brought you as much pleasure as they did me.” He was frowning. Didn’t he like to talk of such things?
She nodded. “But last night, well, there is one thing I don’t understand.” She rubbed her neck and thought he winced. “You pierced my skin, you drank my blood, but how could you do it without tearing—”
“You remember!” he interrupted, his voice low. “You remember everything. But how can that be?” He sat heavily on the chair and ran his fingers though his hair, his gaze never leaving hers.
She tilted her head, trying to understand. “Why would I not? It was very, um, novel, at least to me, and thus easy to remember.” Why was he so agitated?
“I willed—I compelled you to forget. I allow no one to remember when I have taken blood.”
He looked at her and his eyes gleamed like ice. Had she been standing she would have taken a step back. She pushed herself against the back of her chair. It was the same look he’d given her before he left a few hours ago. And now that she thought about it, he’d done it the previous night after he’d given her that kiss right before he’d climbed into the wagon and headed back to town.
He shook his head. “Now I can see that you cannot be compelled to forget. This is most strange—you are very unusual. I have heard that there are mortals whose memories could not be controlled, but I thought that was just a myth. I just tried again to make you forget that…”
“That you drank my blood?” He nodded and pursed his lips.
“I willed you to forget all that we have done but especially that.”
“Everything did go a little hazy for a few seconds,” she said, “but I still remember. You did it the first time we, er…”
“Made love,” he said and added, “Miss Eliza Dunbro, you are a most remarkable woman.”
She shrugged, not really understanding but relaxing just a little.
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his chin on his hands. “Do you know what a vampire is?”
She shook her head.
“Vampires are immortal beings who were once human and now need to drink the blood of humans. They are creatures of the night and have some small powers over most mortals—but not yourself, apparently. Normal people hate them and kill them when they can.” He paused and stroked his chin. “At least that is the case in Europe, perhaps there are none here.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. You are one of them…a vampire?”
He nodded, his face solemn.
“And you like to drink blood?”
“It is a need as well as a desire.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Oh?”
“Well, that explains it then.”
“You take this so calmly.”
“And the other stuff?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The kissing and stuff down here.” She looked down at herself and pointed below her belly, feeling the heat of embarrassment in her face. “Is that something only vampires do?”
Daniel smiled, shaking his head. “Darling Eliza, that is human behavior. But vampires enjoy it also.”
“Well, that’s good then.” Relieved, she smiled at him and leaned forward, clasping her hands on her knees. “I sure did like that.”