A letter
1829 Words
*Lillian*
Night has fallen by the time Blaise brings the buggy to a halt in front of my house. He sets the box containing the sleeping puppy on the table, lights a lamp, and walks through my house as though he owns it, checking all the dark corners and closets.
"Everything seems to be in order," he says, his voice low, and I wonder why everyone always talks quieter at night.
My gaze drifts toward the bedroom door, and I wonder what, if anything, he expects now. Once an intimacy has been shared, how do I establish boundaries?
"I appreciate that you went with me today." He says softly.
I snap my gaze to his. "I enjoyed it."
"Did you?" he asks, turning his hat in his hands.
I smile softly. "Yes, I did."
"Good." He glances quickly around the room. "I have best get back to town, get the buggy and horses turned into the livery."
With long strides, he crosses the room and opens the door. I follow him onto the porch, the pale light from the lamp spilling through the doorway and across his face. Within the shadows, I see his fingers working the brim of his hat.
"Lillian..."
My breath catches and holds. I don’t know where I will find the strength to refuse him if he asks to come back inside. He takes a step nearer and rubs his knuckles across my cheek.
"Lillian, I'm not courting you," he says quietly.
"You told me that earlier today. I haven't forgotten." I mumble.
He nods, "I just want to make sure that you understand that."
"I do." I tell him.
"Good."
His mouth swoops down to cover mine, his arm snaking around my waist, drawing me flush against his body. Hot, moist, and hungry, his lips taunt and tease. Of their own accord, my arms wind around his neck, and I return his kiss with equal fervor. I know it's wrong. I have nothing of permanence to offer him.
When he finally draws away, I'm surprised my legs are able to support me.
"Get inside before I do something we both regret," he rasps in a ragged voice.
I nod, slip inside, and close the door. I press my ear against it. It's long moments before I hear his boots hitting the porch, carrying him away, before I hear the buggy roll into the night.
I sink to the floor and bury my face in my hands, but I can't hide from the truth. Had he asked, I would have invited him to stay.
*Blaise*
I stare at the five cards in my hand. The queen of hearts looks damned lonely with no other face cards to keep her company. I understand that feeling. Dear Goddess, loneliness has been my companion for most of my life. I love my brothers, but hanging on to their shirttails, I have found little affection and when it came, it had been little more than a quick nod of the head for a job well done. I don’t resent that. A man’s world is decidedly different from a she-wolf’s.
Briony taught me that affection deepened with a touch: slender fingers on a clenched fist, a hand rubbing a shoulder, a hug, or a kiss on the cheek. Small things that breached the mighty wall of lonesomeness. But Briony had belonged first to Chase, then to Wade, never to me. As much as she eased my forlorn heart, she also left me wanting. Until I had first set eyes on Olivia.
She had been mine: to look at, to smile at, to laugh with whenever I wanted. But I had kept my hands and lips to myself, waiting until she was old enough. She had been nearly seventeen, the first time I had kissed her. And nine months later, I was sitting in a cold barren cell with nothing but the memories. And the loneliness had increased because I had known what it was to live without it.
I tell myself that it's loneliness that has me riding out to Lillian’s house late into the night. I simply sit astride Black Thunder and stare at the shadowed house. More than once I had to stop myself from dismounting and knocking on her door. I don’t imagine she’d appreciate being disturbed from her slumber at two o’clock in the morning. And what could I have said?
I can't sleep without holding you, smelling you, listening to your breath whispering into the night.
I have gone so far as to pull bluebonnets from the fields and stuff them beneath my pillow at the hotel just so I could pretend she was near.
It had been a week since I had taken her to the old homestead and my loneliness had increased with each passing day. I’m not in a position to court her, have nothing to offer her, and even though I’d told her that, I had seen a measure of hope reflected in her golden eyes. I can't bear the thought of disappointing her, and I fear if I spend much more time with her, I might do just that.
“You in or out?”
I snap my gaze up to the detective’s. Alexander has lifted a brow. I toss down my cards. “I feel like we’re wasting our time. Or at least I am. I might as well be spitting in a high wind for all the good I’m doing here.”
Alexander gathers up the cards and begins his infuriating silent shuffle. “I finished visiting the last of the brothels last night. Didn’t glean any information.”
“You’ve been visiting brothels?” I ask.
“Yep. No telling what a man might say in the heat of passion.” He says.
I know too well the truth of that statement. “I could have saved you the trouble.”
Alexander smiles. “Oh, it was no trouble.”
The man’s easy attitude is beginning to wear thin. I plant my elbows on the table and lean forward. “Rowan Windscar had a preference for young boys.”
The cards Alexander had been shuffling go flying out of his hands and disbelief sweeps over his face. “What?”
I rub my jaw, wondering how much I can say without causing harm. I had learned of Rowan's perversions from Cooper. Furious over a past I had been unable to change, I shot a bullet over Rowan’s head in the saloon and announced that nothing would have brought me greater pleasure than to rid the ground of Rowan’s shadow. Those words have served to condemn me as much as Rowan writing ‘Blaise’ in the dirt. I sigh deeply. "Rowan took pleasure in hurting boys, among other things."
"Your brother’s son?" Alexander asks.
"I didn’t say that."
"You didn’t have to. The boy has a haunted look in his eyes. I just couldn’t figure out what had put it there." Alexander pours himself a whiskey and downs it in one swallow. "I gotta tell you, the more I learn about Rowan Windscar the more I hope I don’t find the man who killed him. But then there’s the matter of your innocence."
I finger my glass of whiskey. "I have spent five years thinking someone had killed him and purposely put the blame on me. The thought of getting even burned inside me. Now, I’m beginning to think I just got unlucky. No one set out to hurt me. Someone murdered Rowan, and I got blamed for it. If it hadn’t destroyed my life, I would be applauding whoever killed him."
"Which is the reason I will keep looking, but this gives me a different angle: an irate father, a young boy Windscar might have hurt who finally grew to manhood... People will be less likely to share that sort of information, but I will keep that in mind as I’m digging."
"I’m thinking of heading home. I can’t see that I’m doing any good here. Rowan stole five years of my life. I don’t want him taking any more." I mumble.
Alexander gathers up his scattered cards and begins to play a game of solitaire. "I’m going to stay here a few more days, then head back to Kansas, see if this new information brings anything to the surface."
The Windscars had moved to Texas from Kansas several years back. If Callie hadn’t brought such joy to Chase’s life, I would have wished they had never left Kansas.
"Beta Moonshadow?"
I glance up at the hesitant voice. Recognition dawns and I slowly come to my feet. "Thomas, isn’t it?"
"Yes, my beta. I was out visiting Lillian today. She looks a might poorly. I have a feeling you’re the cause, but she said it ain’t my place to judge."
Guilt cuts through me like a rusty knife. I should have honored her request that I never return. "That was mighty generous of her."
"She’s a generous sort to a fault, if you want to know the truth. I don’t like to see her hurt." He says.
"I have no intention of hurting her." It is that intention that has kept me away from her when everything inside me wanted to see her again.
He narrows his eyes at me, "Well, see that you don’t 'cuz you’d have to answer to me if you did."
Thomas spins on his heel. I drop into my chair and meet Alexander’s speculative gaze.
"What was all that about?" The detective asks.
"Personal," I say just before I down my whiskey, relishing the burning in my gut. Thomas obviously has a soft spot for Lillian. Hell, who wouldn’t?
He raises a brow, "Nothing that might help me find Rowan’s killer?"
"No, but what would it cost me to have you search for another killer?" I ask.
"Not a cent. Your brother is paying me enough to find ten killers." He says.
I nod, "What information would you need?"
"Name helps. Description. Anything at all. What do you know about him?" He asks.
"Not much. He killed a family." I admit.
"Beta Moonshadow?"
I jerk my head around. Thomas holds out an envelope. "I forgot that Lillian asked me to drop this off at the Driskill for you, but reckon I can just give it to you here."
I take the envelope, studying the scrawl on the paper that looks as though it had been written with a trembling hand. "’Preciate it."
Thomas gives me a slow nod before sauntering away.
"That from your Lillian?" Alexander asks.
"She’s not my Lillian." I tear open the envelope and pull out the letter she has written. The words send joy, fear, and dread weaving through me. I surge to my feet, knocking the chair over.
The detective looks at me, "What is it?"
"I was wrong. She is my Lillian. Do whatever it takes to find Rowan’s killer. I’m heading back to Chase’s ranch."
- Writer
