It was an attempt at power, she supposed, the assumption being that a tenderfoot who didn’t carry a weapon could be easily intimidated by men who otherwise couldn’t intimidate anyone. And if those involved had been drinking, adding false courage and recklessness to the situation, that only made it worse. She’d seen one Easterner actually shot in the foot when he refused to dance to his tormentor’s gunplay. Damian didn’t strike her as a man who would play along just to defuse the situation.
He wouldn’t. He had dropped the saddle and was simply standing there, letting those bullets get closer and closer to his feet, while his antagonists grew more and more annoyed. He wasn’t entertaining them. He might be exceptionally good with a rifle, but it wasn’t something you carried around with you at all times, and going shopping was one of those times you’d figure it wouldn’t be needed. And without a weapon, there wasn’t much he could do.
He must not have figured it that way, though, because after asking them to desist got him no positive response, he stepped toward one of the men to put an end to the shooting in a more physical way—and got the man’s gun aimed at his chest instead of his feet. That was when Casey drew and fired a warning shot, because she was afraid Damian was going to ignore what was a real threat now and throttle the man anyway—and get himself killed for the effort.
She shattered a bootheel from one of them, shot the hat off another. It was enough to draw their attention away from Damian. She would have done more, but didn’t need to. Damian, in the midst of them, went right to work, slamming two of the men together. Their heads butting knocked both out. The third man he hit so hard, he went sailing out into the street. The fourth was doubled over from a gut punch, probably wondering if he’d ever breathe again.
Then, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred, Damian dusted his hands, straightened his jacket, picked up the saddle, and continued on his way. Casey kept her eyes on the last conscious one of the four, just to make sure he wasn’t stupid enough to try anything else. He wasn’t. Still gasping for breath, he stumbled back into the saloon.
Casey put her gun away and gave her attention to Damian as he reached her. “You okay?”
“Nice, friendly town this is” was his mumbled response.
“It probably is,” Casey said, contradicting his obvious sarcasm. “And I hate to mention this, I really do,” she added with a grin. “But that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t look like you just stepped off the train from back East. You look like a tourist, Damian, and folks will pull pranks on, try to shock, and otherwise amuse themselves with tourists, who they know don’t know any better.”
“Then teach me.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Teach me how to survive out here.”
She tried to digest the implications of that, but couldn’t without giving it more thought, so she said, “Well, for starters, let’s head back to the general store before it closes. It’s time you looked like you belonged here rather than like you’re just passing through.”
His jaw clenched. She sighed inwardly, expecting his refusal—once again. And she had to wonder what it was about his fancy duds that made him so reluctant to give them up. Did he simply not want to appear common? Was it only that?
But then he surprised her with a nod and an abrupt “Lead the way.”
She did, although afterward wished she’d never brought it up. Damian in a fancy suit was handsome enough, but in tight jeans, a blue cambric shirt with a black bandana and vest, and a wide-brimmed hat, he looked too rugged by half—he looked like he belonged. And that gave her a whole different perspective on him. It made him…available.
Chapter 19
Having found a watering hole, Casey set up camp a bit early the next day to take advantage of it. And with Damian offering to do the hunting again, she managed a quick bath while he was gone, including washing her hair, which didn’t need washing. She tried not to think about why she felt a bath was necessary, other than to use the excuse that she no longer needed to cultivate her grimy look.
She was still drying her hair when Luella Miller showed up. Casey’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of her. And not just because it was a shock to see someone else out here. She did some rude staring without even being aware of it. But then, she’d never seen a woman quite this stunningly beautiful before.
Pale blond hair under a fashionable bonnet. Big blue eyes thickly lashed. Skin so ivory it was almost translucent. Big breasts. A tiny waist. A petite height. Big breasts. All lacy from her parasol down to inserts in her dainty boots. Big breasts. Was she repeating herself? She couldn’t help it; those were really big breasts for such a small woman. It was a wonder she wasn’t stoop-backed from being so top-heavy, but her posture was straight as a board, if not a little thrusting.
“Thank God,” was the first thing the Vision said, quite breathlessly, though she hadn’t rushed forward. “You can’t imagine how glad I am to see you. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to sleep out here alone tonight.”
Casey wasn’t sure what that remark had to do with anything, but to be polite, she said, “You’re welcome to share the fire and some grub.”
“That is so kind of you,” the woman said as she came forward with her hand extended. “I’m Luella Miller, from Chicago. And you are?”
Casey stared at those delicate fingers, with impossibly manicured nails, then quickly looked away, afraid Luella was expecting more than a simple handshake, and hand-kissing she wasn’t about to do. “Casey,” was all she said. The outstretched hand she deliberately ignored.
“Is it all right if I sit on this?” Luella asked with a smile, indicating Old Sam’s saddle, which had been placed beside the fire. But she sat down on it before Casey said anything, taking a positive response for granted. There was a long sigh as she added, “This has been such a ghastly journey. And here I was assured that it would be a simple matter to get to Fort Worth, Texas.”
Since she was staring at Casey expectantly, Casey politely asked, “That’s where you’re headed?”
“Yes, for my great-uncle’s funeral. But my maid ran off on me in St. Louis. Can you imagine? And then the train was delayed, something about tracks needing to be replaced before it could continue south. I was hoping to make it to Fort Worth before the funeral, but I really have to be there before the reading of the will, since I’m likely to be mentioned in it. Otherwise I could have waited for the train.”
“So you—er—decided to walk to Fort Worth?”
Luella blinked, then laughed. “How delightfully funny. No, of course not. I met this nice minister and his wife who were journeying south by wagon, and they were kind enough to let me travel with them—at least I thought it was a kind gesture until they abandoned me.”
Casey raised a brow. “Abandoned you how?”
“They just left me. I honestly could not believe it. We had stopped for lunch today and I went off to—well, to have a few minutes to myself, and when I came back, the wagon was racing down the road and soon gone from sight. I waited for several hours, thinking, well, hoping, they would return for me, but not they or anyone else came along. So I continued south, but the road seemed to just disappear. I suppose it isn’t well traveled enough to remain obvious, now that the railroad is so much more convenient—at least when it’s running. So I’m afraid I got quite lost quite quickly.”
For someone who had been wandering around lost all day, she looked mighty neat and clean. But then, some folks just refused to let dirt get anywhere near them. Which was why she’d confiscated Old Sam’s saddle for a seat, rather than attempt to sit on the ground.
“I suppose they took your belongings with them?” Casey remarked.
“Well, now that you mention it…and I had quite a few expensive jewels in my portmanteau, as well as all my money in my purse.” Another sigh. “You think they meant to rob me all along, that that’s the only reason they offered to take me south with them?”
“Appears so.”
> “But people don’t do that to me.”
Casey managed to keep from snorting. The lady obviously thought that because of her beauty, all offers of assistance were sincere.
“Most thieves aren’t particular about who they rob, Miss Miller.”
“Well, that minister, if he even is one, must be blind,” Luella insisted.
“Perhaps he was posing as a minister merely to gain your trust. But there isn’t much you can do about it until you report it to the authorities.”
Another sigh. “Yes, I know. And I still have to reach Fort Worth within the week. You wouldn’t happen to be going south, would you?”
Casey really wished she could say no, but couldn’t see any way around the truth, except to avoid mentioning that she was headed for Fort Worth as well. “We’ll be stopping in the next town south of here.”
“We? Then you’ll take me with you?”
“I meant my friend and I. He’s hunting up some dinner for us right now. But yes, of course we’ll take you as far as the next town.”
They continued talking, at least Luella did, mostly about her life in Chicago. From what Casey gathered, she was a twenty-two-year-old rich society debutante who lived with her indulgent brother. She was supposed to have married, eight times, but each time she had canceled the wedding at the last moment, sighing that she was just never sure if her fiancés wanted to marry her because she was so beautiful or because they really loved her. Eight times to figure that out seemed a bit much to Casey, but she didn’t say so.
And then Damian returned, and Casey had to witness him making a complete jackass of himself as he stared incredulously at their beautiful guest. He probably didn’t hear a word Casey said as she explained who Luella was and what she was doing in their camp. He didn’t even think to dismount, just sat there ogling the lady.
And Luella had definitely noticed how handsome Damian was. Casey had never seen so much eye-batting and simpering from one female before. It was purely disgusting, but Damian didn’t seem to think so.
“I told Luella that we’d take her as far as the next town,” Casey said, finishing her explanation.
“Yes, of course we will. She can ride with me.”
How quickly he said that. And he might even be able to manage it. After all, he and the pinto had been getting along much better. But the idea annoyed the heck out of Casey.
Which was why she pointed out, “The extra weight could set that pinto of yours to bucking again. Better if she rides with me.”
He nodded. At least he wasn’t going to argue. But Luella sure looked disappointed.
He finally dismounted and dropped his kills pretty much in Casey’s lap—without looking. His eyes he couldn’t seem to take off Luella. And he was quite formal about introducing himself. Casey rolled her eyes when he did the hand-kissing bit that she had avoided.
For the rest of the evening, those two talked, finding just about everything in common, both coming from the same social background. Casey was ignored for the most part. Though at one point Luella tried to politely include her in the conversation, if an “I hope we’re not boring you, Mister Casey” could be considered polite.
But Damian’s thoughtless, “She’s not a mister” was the piece of tinder that exploded Casey’s temper.
She couldn’t believe he had pointed that out. And it didn’t help that Luella was sitting there giggling, saying, “Don’t be silly, I know a man when I see one.” But when no one joined in with her laughter, she looked shocked, giving Casey a closer scrutiny, and then was embarrassed about her remark, all of which had been unnecessary.
But Casey wasn’t noticing Luella just then, she was pinning Damian with a you’re-real-close-to-being-shot look, and, standing up, told him, “I’d like a word with you—in private.” She marched off into the darkness.
He did follow her—thankfully, since that part hadn’t been guaranteed—and after a few moments was heard to say, “Hold up. I don’t have eyes that see in the dark like you do.”
She stopped, but only because they were far enough away from the camp not to be seen, much less heard. “I can’t see in the dark any better than you. I just make sure I note the layout of the land before it gets dark, something you should be doing already.”
“Fine, if you say so.”
She ignored the testiness of that reply. He’d reached her, and she was too busy poking him in the chest—hard. “Why the hell did you tell her about me? Do you think that’s something I share with just anyone? It’s none of her damned business who I am. If I had wanted her to know, I would have done the telling myself, now wouldn’t I?”
“Are you annoyed with me, Casey?”
She detected the humor in his tone, as if he were convinced she had nothing, really, to be upset about. It was the last straw. She growled low and swung at him. How he saw it coming and avoided her fist, she didn’t know. But in the next moment she found his arms locked around her to keep any more fists from flying.
That was probably all he’d meant to do, just restrain her. But Casey went perfectly still, shocked at having his body pressed so close to hers. And her stillness must have set his mind to thinking of other things, because suddenly he was titling her head back and kissing her.
Chapter 20
An accident. That was what Damian had called the kiss that had shocked Casey to her core. He had tasted her, started her insides churning strangely, her pulse racing something fierce; then, with a soft caress against her cheek, he’d set her away from him.
“This was an—accident. It won’t happen again,” he told her before he walked away.
He had left her dazed and…she couldn’t even figure out everything else she was feeling. And he had returned to the campfire, sat down, and resumed his conversation with Luella as if nothing—certainly nothing earth-shattering—had occurred. Casey had gone off to find a boulder to sit on and pulled out a few hairs in her frustration.
She had to face some facts. This attraction she felt for Damian had escalated into something much stronger than she could handle. She wanted his kisses. She probably wanted more than that, but she balked at delving too deeply into what kisses could lead to.
But none of it mattered because she couldn’t picture him in her future. He was a tourist eager to get back to his way of life. She knew he’d never fit in her world, nor would she fit in his. But unfortunately, knowing that didn’t put an end to the “wants” he stirred in her.
She was going to have to decide whether to further explore these newfound feelings, knowing full well that there would be no permanence involved. Or whether to renew her efforts at keeping her distance from this man, and hope they’d be going their separate ways sooner rather than later. He had no real interest in her, but more accidents could happen—that was if they could part company with Luella Miller, whom Damian was obviously interested in.
On the one hand, she ought to be glad Luella had shown up, because she kept Damian so occupied that it seemed he wasn’t even aware that Casey was part of their little group. But on the other hand, it bothered her too much, the way he all but drooled over the lady.
And it didn’t look like they would be getting rid of Luella as soon as Casey might have hoped. The southbound train showed up the next day, rolled past them in the distance, and was waiting there in the town they rode into about an hour later. And it was the same train, with Damian’s fancy parlor car still attached to it.
Of course, he just had to invite Luella to share it with them, since they were all going to the same destination. And what objections could Casey give without flat out admitting she was jealous?
By the time the train arrived in Fort Worth a few days later, it really looked like the lovely lady from Chicago was about to corral her ninth fiancé.
In the several days that they had traveled together, there had been only one instance when Damian seemed to actually get annoyed with Luella. It was when she mentioned knowing his mother, who apparently lived in Chicago as well and was part of
Luella’s social circle.
Obviously, or at least obviously to Casey, Damian didn’t want to talk about his mother, not even casually. Yet Luella didn’t notice that and went on and on about the woman, mentioning how she knew about her first husband, how she’d been widowed several years ago from her second husband, how she seemed quite lonely now, living alone in her big house, and that Damian ought to come visit her.
He finally just up and walked out of the car to the open platform at the back. Casey, ensconced in her plush chair across the aisle, mumbled that some folks just didn’t know when to shut up.
Luella, not listening as usual, did glance her way to say, “Now what got into him?”
Casey shrugged, smiled, and replied, “It probably got too stuffy in here for him.”
Luella pouted and fanned herself. “I suppose. It is rather warm in here, isn’t it? But then, he makes me warm, too, if you know what I mean.”
Casey didn’t, and didn’t want to. Luella densely ignored her frown and added, “But I imagine I have that effect on him as well, which is a good thing. We do make a splendid couple, don’t we?”
Did the woman really want her to answer that? She really was something! Casey allowed that Luella was quite something to look at, a bit too beautiful, in fact, but she couldn’t understand how any man could tolerate for very long someone as vainly full of herself as Luella was. Damian ought to have more sense, but then, there was no accounting for some people’s tastes.
And there was still another side to Luella—a side Luella had quite carefully kept from Damian. Yet the woman had no qualms about revealing her underlying nastiness to Casey, whether intentionally or not.
It was at the last depot, when the train had stopped for lunch, that she had pulled Casey aside to tell her, “I thought you might be jealous of me, but Damian has assured me that you aren’t interested in him. Not that it would matter. You would hardly make a suitable wife for him, you’ll have to agree. And besides, when I want something, I don’t let anything stand in my way, so do try to remember that, dear.”