Absalom shrugged, then flapped the letter at her. “Emmett had no intention of me getting stuck here at the top of the world unless I experienced, as he did, a sacred calling. Which I did not.”
His ugly face grew more hideous in a shaft of sunlight from the front window. She almost laughed out loud again, how such a comely man as Emmett had the same parentage as this behemoth. But she cringed as his expression darkened and he thrust the letter into her hands.
“Now, my dear, please read your beloved’s last letter again. And if you do not agree—” He paused for a good long stroke of her hair and tossed the jocket hat to the ground.
She pulled away, not even minding the brisk tug of his hand as he caught to keep her close. “Absalom, I will not agree.”
“Oh, dear Lila, yes, you shall. Or indeed, I shall inform the sheriff and have your outlaw arrested.”
Her skin turned colder than the bleakest winter night. For even then, Emmett had held her for warmth. His warmth. “What are you saying?”
“I happened upon a fellow guest for luncheon at the Tabor Hotel this noontide.” His long pink tongue emerged to run across thick lips. “A Mr. Matthias Scottsdale. Apparently, the man you were kissing in the carriage a trice ago is being sought by the Pinkertons. I saw your embrace from the window.” He tsked a few times. “I will forgive your shocking lack of dignity.”
She started, but he pushed at her again.
“I know your...companion…is the outlaw, Bronx Sanderson. For your own landlady named whom you were out and about with when I came to call on you. Ah, yes, there is no doubt a reward, which would come in handy in my new life in Missouri. But if you care about your—lover, you’ll bid him farewell and urge him to leave tonight. For if you do not wed me tomorrow without complaint, I shall have no choice but to turn him in.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bronx was not much for the immoral practice of eavesdropping but he was good at it. Had to be, sneaking into barns and corrals after seeing folks busy with supper or tidying up for bedtime. Hearing how long they’d be visiting kin thereby leaving their herd lonely and open for the taking. Shame pounded, though, at the memories.
And he was a quiet man, when need be. So Lila did not know he had heard every word. The livery boy had taken Chadwell and the buggy promptly, so Bronx headed inside to retrieve Asa’s dollar in his work pants so as to treat Doc Holliday to a thank-you drink.
But with the door slamming on the foul man insulting Lila, his Lila, he need make himself known at last, and he bounded into the parlor to take her in his arms.
Her sobs tore into his shoulder. “Bronx?” She raised her head.
“I heard everything, darlin’. And we’ll get this all sorted out, somehow. Nobody gets married without their consent.”
“It’s not that, Bronx. He’ll expose you.” Her face was marred with red blotches of grief, but she had never looked more beautiful. His arms tightened, but she shook him off. “Bronx! You must have heard that! Absalom will see to your arrest if I don’t marry him without complaint.”
“Of course you can’t marry him.” He sat her down and cradled his arm around her shoulder. Wanted her there forever and ever. Amen. “You won’t.”
She stayed but glared at him. “Then you must leave now. Fast and far.”
“Only with you.” The glorious red hair that had so terrified him that first day, thinking on Rebekah, turned to spun gold of the fairy tales as he trailed his fingers through it. “Only with you.”
“I can’t. I haven’t sold Gethsemane yet. I can’t leave Malina. I gave my word to help her.” Her hands grazed his hair now, and he wished more than ever he hadn’t smeared it up with shoeblack.
“Well, you can’t marry him, either. The answer is simple enough.” Bronx cleared his throat, more scared than the scramble up the waterfall. “You need to get yourself...a husband before that Absalom makes more noise.”
There. He’d said it, and the word didn’t stick in his craw. Even more, he wanted to shout it out loud.
“A husband? Do you mean...” Lila’s face bloomed, but he read worry in her eyes. His heart sank. Of course, what righteous woman, what wise woman would head out as wife with an outlaw? Shame flooded his veins along with his hot blood.
“Nope, I don’t. Not me. Foolish thought.” He looked away, ablaze with regret. “I would work hard to clear my name, work off my fingers to get a bride a home. But I can’t ask it of you. Of anybody.”
“Bronx, I’m not anybody.” Her finger turned his face to look into hers, then she cupped his chin with both hands. His heart did strange things.
“Lila, I’m an outlaw. But...” Bronx’s brain brightened with a new thought. “Lila, if you’re wed, Absalom doesn’t have to know who. Then he can’t hound you about that Bible verse, and he’ll go hoofing it back to whence he came.”
“You’d really marry me?”