Winter Love

Winter Love

by

Aurora Jamison

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Chapter One Morrison plucked a velvety petal from a Gloria daisy in her wedding bouquet and crushed it

between her trembling fingers. She sniffed its faint fragrance and glorious memories flooded back. The springtime, a mountain meadow with soft breezes blowing through the pine trees. The lush green grass begging for her to lie back and accept the caresses of her passionate lover. Gloria closed her eyes and swayed as cold wind blew into her face. It was winter outside the church now, but she could imagine that time last spring when she and Ethan had frolicked like young, wild animals, chasing one another, slowly removing clothing until they were both as naked as they day they were born. She drew in a deeper breath as she pressed the petal to her upper lip. Mountain daisies were her favorite, and her bridegroom knew that. He had spent a fortune having these flowers brought in from down south where the fierce snows did not pile up and Denver’s freezing temperatures did not chill the soul. The meadow. Green and soft fragrant grass 1

Aurora Jamison beneath her trembling body as she lay waiting for Ethan to come to her, to caress her, to enter her gently. The heat of his cock inside her as she stared into his eyes. Blue skies above their lustfully joined bodies and quiet forests all around, they had made love until she was weak from the climax he gave her. Tears welled in her cobalt blue eyes. Gloria fought to hold them back and failed. She could not stop crying once the emotional dam burst. She mopped at her eyes and fought to keep back a new flood of tears. She sucked in a deep breath and then began to hiccup. Gloria began crying again when she turned in the small, cold room and stared into a full-length mirror. This ought to be the happiest day of her life. Instead, it was the most dreadful. She looked beautiful in the flowing white dress with the fancy lace collar that had come all the way from Ireland. Her pa had said that lace had belonged to her mother, but Gloria doubted that. Her mother had been a whore and never had anything this nice. Jeremiah Morrison had probably won it in a poker game down in Larimer Square when he was on one of his drunks. Maybe he had stolen it. She put nothing past a man who would sell her into marriage as if she was nothing more than a prize cow. “Oh, Ethan,” she sobbed out. “Why aren’t you here to take me away?” Gloria turned a little and 2

Winter Love looked at her reflection more critically in the mirror. Still, she thought she looked nice. It had to be true that all brides were beautiful. In spite of her anguish over the arranged marriage, she knew she was beautiful. Gloria wiped at frost on the very edges of the mirror to get a better look at her reflection. Getting married in the dead of winter in Denver carried its penalties. Colorado had endured one blizzard after another during the past two months. Gloria had heard old-timers say that it had been worse back in 1876, when the state had won its statehood, but she did not remember that. It was plenty cold enough now ten years later. She shivered as she pressed wrinkles from her skirts. So pretty, she thought. If only I was marrying the man I love. Her hands trembled, and she felt a new flood of tears welling up. She was a good-looking woman, not plain at all, not the way her pa meant when he got into one of his rages and was so intent on taking out all his troubles on her. Maybe she was not as pretty as her ma. She touched a silver locket dangling around her slender throat and ran her cold-numbed fingers over the edge. A quick press against the spring popped it open. Reflected in the mirror was a beautiful woman, almost as lovely as the picture of the woman in the locket. Gloria shared the long hair as dark as midnight and the 3

Aurora Jamison piercing blue eyes, but there the resemblance ended. Her mother had been a true beauty with a long, fine patrician nose, thin lips always on the verge of smiling and rosy cheeks. She looked so healthy and happy in the picture! Gloria cursed her pa for giving her a big nose and skin that sunburned in the summer and turned dry as tanned leather in the winter. She was bigger boned than her mother, too. At least she thought so from the picture in the locket. When Gloria was four, Audrey Morrison had left without so much as a word of goodbye. Gloria had gone to eat breakfast, and her mother was nowhere to be found. She had cried then, too, until her pa beat her so hard she stopped in spite of the pain. “Beat me again,” Gloria said, her jaw firming. “I’m not marrying Mr. Turnbull. Beat me like you always do, Papa, but you’ll have to find me first.” She went to the rickety door leading into the church and heard the sounds of the minister, her pa, Abraham Turnbull, and the man’s two business partners out there. Sneaking past them would be impossible. Gloria braced the single chair in the anteroom against the door but knew it would not hold back anyone determined to enter the room. All she wanted was to slow her pa down. He was like a force of nature when he got it into his head to do something. Letting such a catch as Abraham 4

Winter Love Turnbull slip off the hook was not going to happen if he had anything to say about it. He had found about the oldest man in Denver with the intent of having his daughter marry and then support him using her husband’s wealth. Gloria shuddered. This time it was not from the frigid breeze blowing through the cracks in the outer wall. The notion of a wedding night with Mr. Turnbull frightened her more than death itself. She spun so fast her skirt billowed outward and went to the small window overlooking the snowy street. Big, fat flakes fluttered down, promising inches of snow by morning. For any other woman, the idea of spending the night and the next morning pressed hot and close to her lover would have been exciting. Gloria ran determined fingers under the window and heaved with all her might. The window refused to budge open. Panicking, she strained even more and tore the sleeve of her wedding dress on an exposed nail. She set her feet on the worn floor and tried again. This time the window sailed open. The sudden gust of wind through the window staggered her back into the tiny room. “Ethan!” Gloria’s bright blue eyes went wide. She had not believed it was possible! “You came for me. I thought...” The man tumbled through the open window and fell to the floor. He sat there looking up at her 5

Aurora Jamison with a quizzical expression. “I’m not too late, am I? You didn’t get yerself hitched already?” “No, no, take me away, Ethan. Please. Do it now before they come for me.” Gloria dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the man’s neck. She pressed her face into his shoulder. His wool coat was wet from snow and chafed her cheek, but she did not care. She kissed the exposed flesh on his neck as she had so many times before. “Your pa, he’s out there?” Ethan Huggins glanced back over his shoulder, as if he expected the man to come barreling through the door at any instant. Gloria knew it was possible, but it no longer mattered what her pa thought. Ethan was here. He would protect her. He was going to save her from marrying Abraham Turnbull. “He won’t come in yet. Not until you hear the music start up. You can make that all so it doesn’t matter a whit, Ethan.” “What?” He looked at her, frowning hard. “Marry me. Mr. Turnbull won’t be able to do a damn thing if I’m already married.” “It would piss off your pa something fierce.” “Abraham Turnbull wouldn’t care much for it, either,” Gloria said gleefully. A small warm glow drove away both the chill and her fear now that she had said the words. Marry Ethan. That will solve all her problems! 6

Winter Love “You don’t want to do that. Your pa’s got a fierce temper and—” “And what?” Gloria pushed back from Ethan and stared hard at him. “And what else?” “Abraham Turnbull’s worth a passel of money. The things he could do wouldn’t be nice.” “He’s an old man. Let him buy himself another wife.” She pressed her face against his chest again. “What’s wrong, Ethan? I thought you’d come for me, to save me.” “To save you,” he muttered. “Yes, to save me. I don’t want to marry Mr. Turnbull. I love you.” “You do?” “You silly man. Of course I love you. I mean we—” Gloria found it hard to say more. She had met Ethan Huggins for the first time after a church social. He had not attended, not exactly. He had been a handyman working to rebuild the rear of the church after a windstorm had come whipping down off the Front Range in late autumn and had left the roof in shambles. She had been bored seeing the same old faces at the social—and she meant old. The church congregation was nothing but married couples and bachelors older than dirt. She had no idea why her pa insisted they attend until she realized he was trying to sell her to the highest bidder among the older men. Some were not that bad looking, but they wanted nothing to do with bride bartering. 7

Aurora Jamison Abraham Turnbull was so old that this was the only way he would get another wife. His son was ten years older than Gloria and married to a real shrew who took an instant dislike to Gloria when they met. Gloria had fought to remain polite. If she hadn’t, she knew her pa would have beaten her when they got home, but slipping away now and again from the socials he forced her to attend was not too hard. Ethan. He had been like something sent from heaven. Gloria had to smile a little. “You remember how we met that first time?” “Well, it wasn’t all that good,” Ethan said. “Nonsense. I had gone outside to take some air and you came falling from the sky.” “I fell off the damned ladder,” he said sullenly. “Why do you keep bringing that up?” “Because it was as if God answered my prayers. I wanted a man, a real man, and there you were, falling from the sky.” “I almost broke my damn fool back.” “Not so’s I noticed,” she said, chuckling now. She had helped him up and then offered to examine his spine to see if there had been any real damage. She had found bruises and nothing more—there. The sore muscles were easily massaged away and before she knew it, she was massaging other parts of his anatomy. The hardness rising between his legs had startled her. She had some notion of what 8

Winter Love happened when a man got aroused, but to feel it and see it and be responsible for it herself had been a delightful shock. He had led her to a storage shed and thrown a few old burlap bags down before pulling her to her knees. There, both of them kneeling, he had kissed her. Gloria remembered how her heart had almost exploded from her chest. But he had quelled that—and added to her excitement by pressing his hand down so firmly over her breast. When he had begun massaging it and then slipped his worked-hardened hand under her dress to press against bare flesh, she had thought the world would end then and there. The wetness that had started between her legs built and trickled down her inner thighs. She had been lost from that moment on. Ethan could do anything he wanted with her. And he had. He had pushed her down flat onto the dusty old sacks, pushed her skirts aside and stroked over her pussy lips until she was gasping with need. Of their own accord her knees rose as she wantonly opened herself to him. He had moved swiftly then, pressing between her thighs. The feel of his cock against her trembling cunt lips had almost gotten her off. Then there had been pain. A little, not much, followed by a surge of desire unlike anything she had ever felt in her young life. She was old to be a 9

Aurora Jamison virgin, but her pa had been saving her most precious gift. She was eighteen, going on nineteen, and still a girl. Ethan had changed all that with a single hard shove as he sank balls deep into her pussy. There had been no turning back for her. She had responded fully and pulled him down to her, kissing him frantically, wondering if there could possibly be anything more. Ethan had continued fucking her for what seemed forever, although she knew it could hardly have been a minute and then he had gasped, arched his injured back and she thought he was having a spasm. Deep within her hot core she felt his cock expand. Another jolt of fear raged through her as she worried that he was somehow hurting. The heated spurt within her had given her yet another moment of fright, and then she saw the grin slowly spread on his face and knew it was all right. More than all right. “You’re really somethin’, little lady,” he had said. His expression, the light in his eyes, the way he had spoken so admiringly had all thrilled her. That had been the first time. It had not been the last. Throughout the fall into past Christmas they had sneaked off whenever they could. Jeremiah Morrison had often been drunk or passed out, affording the two all the time together they could ever want—and Ethan had wanted a lot. At first, sore and confused, Gloria had not been so sure of 10

Winter Love his voracious sexual appetite. Then she had developed one of her own and became more demanding after she had experienced a climax, almost by accident. Ethan had spirited her off to a boiler room in the office building where he worked as janitor. Naked, warmed by the heat from the boiler, Gloria had run her fingers down across her own clit when he had been fucking her. The dual sensation of a man’s prick deep within her, fucking hard, and her own fingers rubbing across the tiny pink spire had brought about an earthquake of desire that could never be denied. Ethan had become more scarce after she had found the way to experience what he must whenever they lay together, but she had told herself it was not because he did not love her but because her pa was forcing her to visit Abraham Turnbull on a more regular basis. The old man was always polite but whenever she sat in his huge parlor, a bone china saucer balanced on her knee and a dainty cup of tea in her hand, she thought of Ethan and what she would do with him. Reflecting on those visits on long summer days, Gloria now realized she had been wrong to do anything but concentrate on what the old man was saying. As it was, she must have seemed sexually aroused by him. Her distraction had been caused by Ethan, not Abraham, but how could the poor man realize that? If she had been rude to him or 11

Aurora Jamison bored with his idle chitchat, she might not be in a wedding dress in a church anteroom waiting for the marriage ceremony to begin. “Take me out of here, Ethan. Please. Do it now, before...” Gloria tipped her head sideways, listening hard to hear the sounds in the church over the rising whine of the winter wind. “He’s a’ comin’,” Ethan said. “Your pa is comin’.” He looked around like a trapped animal. “Got to get out of here.” “Why’d you come if not to rescue me?” she asked. “I thought me and you, well, I thought we might do it just one more time. For old time sake.” “You just came to fuck me before my wedding?” Her eyes went wide with shock. Gloria hardly believed her ears. “Is that all I am to you? A pussy to fuck and nothing more? I’m only better than beating off behind the woodshed?” “No, little darling, not just that.” “Not just that? What more? Tell me, Ethan. Tell me or I’ll open the door and let my pa whup you good!” She saw him blanch and knew the answer. Ethan was terrified of her father. She sucked in her breath and held it. She understood why. She was scared of Jeremiah Morrison, too. The man had beat her badly more than once. If he thought this marriage he had worked so long and hard to arrange, his meal ticket, was at risk he might do 12

Winter Love more than simply put the hurt on Ethan. He would kill him. “Don’t go doin’ anything like that,” Ethan said. He grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her close to kiss her. Gloria turned her head at the last moment. She felt more betrayed than at any time since her ma had hightailed it without so much as a fare-thee-well. Ethan missed her lips and kissed her cheek. “I won’t let nothin’ happen to you. I swear it.” Even as Ethan made the promise, he was turning her around so he could edge backward toward the open window. The cold wind whipping through seemed balmy to Gloria compared with the ice that had formed around her heart. “Get out of here,” she said. “I’ve got a man to marry.” Ethan started to protest, then heard the doorknob rattle as Jeremiah Morrison came to fetch his daughter for the wedding ceremony. “I love you, Gloria. I really do,” Ethan said. As much as she wanted to, she could not believe him. He turned and dived through the window as the door creaked open, forcing the chair out from under the knob. “Why’d you go and do a damn fool thing like that?” Morrison grumbled as he kicked the chair away. “Git yer ass out here so I can marry you off.” 13

Aurora Jamison Gloria stared out the tiny window at the snow swirling about. The storm had completely swallowed Ethan Huggins in its cold, white embrace. She turned and tried to compose herself. She had a groom waiting for her at the altar.

14

Winter Love

Chapter Two

“W

e’ll be there soon, my dearest,” Abraham Turnbull said. He reached out a skeletal hand and put it atop Gloria’s. She was shaking so hard that he tried to soothe her. It did not work. She turned away and stared from the carriage at the snow, now drifting up to waist deep from the stiff wind blowing off the mountains to the west. They were almost at Turnbull’s house in North Washington Park, the most exclusive portion of Denver. He had made his money in mercantile and outfitted the house with everything a woman could want. Everything but mutual love. Try as she might, Gloria could not work up an iota of love for this tired old man who had bought a young wife. She knew she should be grateful. Her pa might have sold her to some mountain man whose idea of cleanliness was taking a yearly bath, and then only because this was the only way to scrap off the old, worn buckskins before putting on a new pair. 15

Aurora Jamison “It is cold outside. I don’t like it much myself. Perhaps we can take the winter in Texas? It is far warmer there.” “That would be nice, Mr. Turnbull,” she said. “Oh, my dear. When we are alone, please call me Abe. There’s no need for such formality. I know you have had a strict upbringing—that’s one of the things that drew me to you—but we must get along.” “Yes, we must,” Gloria said, still not turning back. Her shaking increased, and it was not from the biting cold. Her body had reached the point where a further drop in temperature meant nothing. This was a cold that seared her very soul. How long would she be married to Abraham Turnbull? However long it might be, it would seem an eternity. “Here we are,” he said. A butler hurried from the house, down broad, icy steps to open the carriage door. He helped Mr. Turnbull out and then offered a reluctant arm to assist her. The butler would not even meet her gaze. Gloria felt even more alone at this rejection. She had hoped to garner some affection from the staff, but they seemed as desolated by the notion of their master marrying as she did. Gloria was sure the reasons were far different, though. They thought of her as a gold digger after a lonely old man’s fortune. In a sad way, this was so, only it was not she who wanted his money. It 16

Winter Love was her pa. She had heard him and Mr. Turnbull speaking immediately after the wedding ceremony. A considerable amount of money had changed hands then, and her new husband had promised more, “to aid in moving the young lady’s belongings.” She had no belongings to speak of, other than the locket still dangling around her neck. The wedding dress, purchased by Mr. Turnbull, was the most expensive thing she had ever owned. If only Ethan had helped her escape before the wedding, she could have worn it for him. Now it was too late. She was legally and spiritually bound to a man she did not love. From inside the tall double doors of the Turnbull mansion came a blast of heat that almost drove her to her knees. Compared with the growing blizzard outside, it was a furnace inside. “These old bones need the heat,” Mr. Turnbull explained. He handed his heavy coat, cane, and scarf to an attentive maid. No one offered to take Gloria’s coat. She removed it and looked around, finally deciding to leave it on a chair near the door so the snow could melt and not do much damage to the fine inlaid wood floor or the fancy Persian rug stretching down the hallway. She could come down later and mop up whatever water puddled. Uneasy because she was dressed in a wedding gown and looked so out of place, Gloria shifted her weight from foot to foot and wondered what 17

Aurora Jamison she ought to do now. “I know I am breaking with tradition, my dear. I trust you do not mind too much.” “What’s that?” Gloria turned to her new husband. “Why, carrying you over the threshold, of course. I’m just not up to it. My joints, you know.” “Oh, yes,” she said, feeling even more out of place. All eyes were on her. “But not all my joints are out of action, as you’ll find, eh. One still affords good service!” Mr. Turnbull laughed at his small joke. Gloria was afraid she knew what he meant all too well. He referred to his member. Their wedding night. So soon she would have to endure yet more humiliation. She smiled weakly and started for the drawing room where she and Mr. Turnbull had spent so many afternoons sitting, drinking tea imported from India and whiling away the hours. Gloria was as familiar with this room as she was her pa’s shack down along Cherry Creek. Her father had bought the shack from a prospector who had decided to move along to the richer strikes on the far side of the mountains, over in Victor and Cripple Creek. He had sold the two-room cabin for only a few dollars, and this had almost been more than Jeremiah Morrison could afford. Gloria suspected a considerable amount of drinking had been involved in the deal, too. But not in Mr. 18

Winter Love Turnbull’s elegant sitting room that cost more than a hundred Cherry Creek homes. The man was a teetotaler. “Oh, no, my dear, not the sitting room. We shall go upstairs. You’ve never been up there. I want you to see your room.” Gloria brightened. He intended to give her a separate room. That meant she might be able to sneak Ethan Huggins in some nights, when Mr. Turnbull was sound asleep. The servants would hate her for it, but from the dark scowls they gave her already, how much more could they turn against her? “Ahem.” The butler cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Sir, the young lady’s room is not yet prepared. Your son and his wife are waiting in the library and request a few minutes of your time.” “Why didn’t Andrew and Daphne attend the wedding? They were invited.” “I am sure they will explain, sir.” The butler turned slightly and pointed toward the library. Gloria had been in that room only once. She had never seen so many books in all her born days. Learning to read and write had been quite a chore for her since she had taught herself out of an old primer she had found along the riverbank when she was ten. Wanting to know even more, she had sneaked over to a schoolhouse and peered through the open window to get a hint of what 19

Aurora Jamison real education was, but her pa had always kept her busy with a half dozen small jobs that barely paid for their food. Rather than getting a formal education in book learning, she had worked as a cook and a maid, a washerwoman and a nanny, sometimes all on the same day. It had been difficult and the pay was ever so small, but she felt obligated to keep the family together after her ma had upped and left the way she did. “Andrew, why are you here? The wedding was an hour ago at the church,” Abraham Turnbull greeted his son. Gloria saw past her husband to his son and his wife. Andrew scowled even more than the butler, but there was a chilling expression on Daphne Turnbull’s face. It was as if she knew something that no one else did—and it was a dangerous secret bringing only trouble. “You know my reasons, Father,” Andrew said. “Both Daphne and I disapprove of this union. There was no reason for us to condone it by attending.” “You must accept my decision,” Abraham Turnbull said, a hint of steel coming to his words. Gloria looked at the old man and saw some of the fire that had driven him to build one of the most successful mercantile empires west of the Mississippi. “Meet your new mother.” He glanced over his shoulder, then motioned imperiously for Gloria to step forward. 20

Winter Love Gloria felt awkward and had no idea what to say. Andrew Turnbull was easily ten years her senior. How could she possibly be his mother—his stepmother? It would have been more seemly for her to marry him, if she had ever wanted someone so disagreeable as a husband. “I will not call her ‘mother,’ “ Andrew said tartly. “And I shall not call you ‘son,’” Gloria said, overcoming her apprehension and letting her ire rise up to take control of her tongue. A woman’s wedding was supposed to be special and something she would value and cherish to her grave. She had been pushed about and told what to do, making no decisions at all for herself, including that of choosing her bridegroom. Her temper frayed, and she no longer had any worry about offending these people. Nothing she did would ever put her in their good graces. “She’s got quite a mouth on her, doesn’t she?” Daphne almost sneered. “Perhaps that is what your father likes most about her, Andrew.” Daphne’s tongue slipped out and flicked like a snake’s. Gloria wanted to go to her and rip it out. “What’s that, Daphne?” Mr. Turnbull turned to his daughter-in-law. “I was only saying she must have a good head on her shoulders.” In a lower voice that Mr. Turnbull could not hear, Daphne added, “She must give very good head to dupe you into 21

Aurora Jamison marrying her.” “Yes, yes, she is quite intelligent.” “I understand you have an appointment with George Lassen next week,” Andrew said. “What? Oh, yes, I need to change my will to reflect my newly married status.” Mr. Turnbull beamed at his new bride. “I want to be certain she is taken care of.” “Who is George Lassen?” asked Gloria. “The family lawyer,” snapped Andrew. “I want to protest, Father. Changing your will is what she wants. She is only after your money.” “Even if that were so,” Mr. Turnbull said, “I am sure she will deserve some small part of my fortune after tonight.” “Really, Father,” spoke up Daphne. “That’s no way for a man of your advanced years to talk.” “There may be snow on the roof but there’s still fire in the furnace,” he said, chuckling. “As you’ll see, my dear,” he said, smiling at Gloria. She felt as if she had stepped into an open pit and fell endlessly. “Why don’t you two run along before the snow piles up so much that you won’t be able to get home?” The way Mr. Turnbull spoke to his son and daughter-in-law was not a suggestion but an order. “Very well, Father, but we must talk further on this matter. The business is too important to leave to the likes of... her.” Andrew almost sputtered as 22

Winter Love he held out his arm for his wife. Daphne took it and sashayed from the room, her bustle waggling just beneath her lace peplum. “Don’t mind Andrew, my dear,” Mr. Turnbull said. “He gets upset over the slightest thing. The death of his mother has upset him no end. But he’ll come to love you as much as I do.” “I hope not,” Gloria said. Being in bed with the younger Turnbull was as much a nightmare for her as bedding his father, but for different reasons. She would as soon lie with a pig as with Andrew Turnbull. Abraham Turnbull came to her and put his thin arms around her to give her a kiss. He pulled her close and kissed her ear, then whispered, “Your wedding night will be superb. We will fuck all night long. I promise you’ll be walking bowlegged in the morning!” She recoiled and stared at him with wide eyes. “What’s wrong, my dear? Didn’t expect an old codger like me to have such ambitions? I was quite the cocksman in my day. I’ll leave it to you to see how little I have lost.” “I...” Words fled from Gloria’s head. She had no idea how to answer. “But of course, you have nothing to compare. You’ll have to take my word that I am quite good in bed.” “Nothing to compare?” “Your father assured me that you are a virgin. 23

Aurora Jamison The first time will be gentle. Then we’ll get down to serious fucking, and you’ll see how incredible I can make you feel using only my cock.” Gloria swallowed hard. “Help me up the stairs, will you? Our bedroom is down the corridor.” “Our bedroom?” She said dully. “I won’t get a room of my own?” “Don’t be silly. You will have a dressing room, of course, and your own sitting room as soon as the staff gets to it but we are married, girl! We share a bed ‘til death do us part!” Gloria helped him up the broad polished stairs going to the second floor. She was aware of the eyes on her. Every one of the staff had come out to watch. The two maids, the cook and her assistant and, of course, the butler. “There, there, that’s good,” Mr. Turnbull said, getting his footing once they had reached the top of the stairs. “Down this hall, there, that door. Our bedroom. But don’t expect me to carry you over that threshold, either!” She bit back her snide comment about lifting his frail body and carrying him over herself. Gloria knew she had to live in this house. It would do no good to antagonize the master, especially when his family and all the servants saw her as nothing more than an interloper. “I need to freshen up,” she said. To her surprise, she was sweating so much that her dress 24

Winter Love clung to her body. The temperature inside the house matched that of a mid summer’s day, and Denver got very hot then. But her sweating came from fearful anticipation. “Of course you do. Would you care for something to eat?” Gloria hesitated. She seldom ate all that much because earning the money to buy the food was so hard. If she did have a few dollars set aside, her pa always found the money and drank it up. “You want to eat this?” Abraham Turnbull reached down and grabbed his crotch. “Or do you want me to eat this?” Gloria yelped when he grabbed for her pussy. He chuckled and made his way toward the bedroom. Gloria watched him go, thinking of it as the steps to a gallows platform where she awaited her death. Or a fate worse than death. She had always heard that and thought it was funny, especially after being with Ethan so many times. Now she knew that it was deadly serious. Abraham Turnbull reached the door to his bedroom and called back, “I’ll be waiting. You get all gussied up for your wedding night, but don’t keep me waiting too long. I’m randy and ready!” Gloria almost cried when she saw that his fancy dress pants were tented up with his erection. He might be old but that didn’t mean he could not get it up when he had a woman ready to share his bed. 25

Aurora Jamison “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Mr. Turnbull. “ “Abe,” he said. “Call me Abe, girl. I’m your husband, not your banker!” With that he went into the bedroom, whistling a lewd tune Gloria had heard her pa singing bawdy words to when he was drunk. She began opening doors, poking her head into each, trying to decide what she should do. Her heart jumped when she saw what had to be her dressing room. She ducked inside, closed the door and leaned against it. She was panting harshly, as if she had run a dozen miles. When she recovered some of her poise, she explored the room, looking at the fine draperies, the elegant dressing table and the two wardrobes filled with clothing the like of which she had never imagined. She ran her fingers over the silks and fine linens, wondering what these dresses cost. Then she remembered that Abraham Turnbull owned half the stores in Denver. It was nothing for him to order out so many dresses. They would never be missed in the stores, and their number and quality certainly impressed her. Tears welled when she saw the nightgown. It hung to one side, all by itself in obvious display for her. She touched it. To wear this for Ethan, she thought. But this was not to be. He had run when he had the chance to get her away from the church. In spite of her suspicion that Ethan had wanted nothing more 26

Winter Love than a quick fuck before she got married, she had to think he truly loved her and had lost his nerve when he heard her pa coming. Jeremiah Morrison was an imposing man, quick to anger and never feeling any pain when he fought. The years of whiskey had numbed him in both body and soul. Maybe Papa will get enough money from Abraham to drink himself into the grave, Gloria thought. It was not a worthy thought, but it came easily. She went to the window and looked out. Night had fallen, but she still saw the wild white whirls of the snowstorm building in the distance. She might make a rope out of the fine clothing in the wardrobe and drop down, but it would be so cold outside. She might freeze if she did not find shelter quickly—and where would she go? This was her home now, for better or for worse. She went to the dressing table and stared at herself all decked out in the wedding gown. She knew she was pretty. Gloria put her hands to her breasts and pressed until she sobbed softly. Working slowly, she unfastened the ties and snaps until she stepped out of the gown. She was dressed only in a thin linen shift. Before she knew what she was doing, her hand slid under the hem of the shift and worked up her leg to brush across the sensitive sex lips hidden there. “Oh, oh,” she gasped, her breasts rising and falling faster now. She had pleasured herself so many times before Ethan had come into her life. 27

Aurora Jamison “Oh, Ethan,” she said, closing her eyes as her finger slid into her pussy. A second finger joined the first as her inner oils began to build. She started finger fucking herself until her knees went weak. She sat on the dressing table bench and rocked back, her knees rising and the shift pulling away from her body. She watched herself as she drove her fingers in and out of her wet slit. Her finger sped up as it slipped in and out. The inner heat spread and turned into a warm sun glowing in her loins. Gasping, moaning, thinking of Ethan, she kept her finger fucking hard as she reached out with her other hand to tweak a nipple. The sensations spread through her body like melted butter. When the two merged, Gloria let out a cry of release. It was not much of an orgasm, but it was enough to take her mind off what had to follow. A little. She was able to forget for a few seconds. She dropped her feet to the carpeted floor and rocked forward. The shift bunched around her waist so her pussy was still exposed. She stroked over the tangled raven-dark mat of fleece there and finally knew she was not going to enjoy her self-stimulation anymore. With body and soul dipped in lead, she went to the wardrobe and took the nightgown from the hanger. She shucked off the linen shift she had worn under her wedding gown and donned the nightgown. It took her a 28

Winter Love few minutes to figure how to tie it just right. She had never worn anything as expensive as this, other than her the wedding gown that lay discarded in a sad pile on the floor. Somehow, that dress matched her fortunes. Lovely but discarded and in disarray. A million ideas raced through her mind on how to avoid going into Mr. Turnbull’s bedroom—her bedroom—but nothing useful came to her. If she put off going to her wedding bed too long, she would anger her new husband. Steps slow and hesitant, she left her dressing room and the safety of solitude it offered and went to the bedroom. She knocked tentatively, hoping against hope that Mr. Turnbull had already gone to bed and fallen asleep. “Come in, my dear. Come in and be quick about it!” Gloria opened the door and went in. The gaslights were turned low, but she saw Abraham Turnbull as if he was bathed in dazzling sunlight. He was entirely naked, but her eyes refused to leave the man’s boner. He had a hard-on as large as Ethan’s. Ethan’s, she thought. She could keep her eyes closed and pretend that it was Ethan fucking her and not this withered old man. “Come to me and suck on my cock. I want to feel the warmth of your lips as you suck on me. Suck hard and then we will fuck!” 29

Aurora Jamison Gloria herself to cross the room. Surprisingly strong hands rested on her shoulders and forced her to her knees. His erection bobbed inches in front of her lips. “Go on, wife. Suck my dick.” Gloria reached out and fumbled about, keeping her eyes tightly closed. Then resolve caused her to hurry along. The sooner she got him off the sooner she could simply lie in the bed and sleep, as if sleep would ever come to her this night. She took his cock into her hands and stroked up and down. He moaned softly and stepped a little closer. She worked her hand up and down faster. Then she put her lips to the very tip of his cock. He let out a huge gasp. She thought he had cum, but there was no gush of white goo from the end of his prick. Gloria tumbled backward when his weight crashed down atop her. “Mr. Turnbull, please,” she said, thinking he had become so excited he could not wait to get inside her. But he lay atop her, unmoving. Gloria pushed at him and finally rolled away to stare at him. He lay stretched out on the floor. She saw no rise and fall of his chest, although his boner was as hard as ever. “Mr. Turnbull? Abe?” She shook him. He did not move. Gloria knelt beside him and pressed her fingertips into his throat hunting for a pulse. There was no telltale throbbing, even in the bulging 30

Winter Love veins. She rocked back on her heels, confused by the flood of emotions that assailed her. Relief and guilt and then fear. Real fear. She had killed her husband on their wedding night. For this she would hang.

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Chapter Three loria was not sure how she got to the dressing room, found suitable clothing in the wardrobe and then slipped out the second story window to land in a snow bank. The cold shocked her and brought her back to reality after she had gone into a trance seeing Abraham Turnbull dead on the floor. She had killed him. She had somehow killed her own husband because she had wanted him dead so badly. Pulling up the collar of her heavy coat, Gloria lowered her head and walked into the wind. Even with the fine new clothing, the cruel wind cut through and chilled her bones, but a considerable amount of the cold came from within. She had bad thoughts about Abraham and now he was dead. She rubbed furiously at her lips. Just the slightest touch of her mouth against his cock had killed him. She struggled into the street and got her bearings. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to run

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Winter Love and hide. Hardly knowing she did so, she turned toward the center of Denver and the thriving saloon district around Larimer Square. Gloria was not sure how long it took her to get into the gas lamp lit streets of the quarter, but the heat from the open doorways she passed sent thrills of pain throughout her flesh. She realized this meant her face might be frostbitten. She shrugged it off. Nothing mattered but getting away. When the butler found Mr. Turnbull dead and her gone, he would alert the police. Let Andrew Turnbull or his witch of a wife talk to the police. Gloria knew she would have her head thrust through a noose the instant they caught her. She looked in one saloon after another until she saw a familiar face. Her heart raced. Her luck had changed. Gloria barged in and for a moment, all the men went quiet. Virtuous women did not enter a saloon like this, and from her fine clothing, it was obvious that she was not a soiled dove. She made a beeline to the table where Ethan Huggins sat, staring into his empty beer mug as if he might divine the future in the flecks of drying foam. He looked up when she rushed to him. “Gloria!” “Help me, Ethan,” she pleaded. “You have to help me. I’m in bad trouble.” “We can’t talk here. This isn’t a fit place for you.” “Anywhere,” she said desperately. She took his 33

Aurora Jamison arm and tried to pull him to her for comfort. He shrugged off her hand and pointed toward a door at the rear of the main room. Gloria hurried after him into the poorly lit, narrow corridor. He went to the far end, but she stopped dead in her tracks as she got a really good look where he was leading her. “This is a whorehouse,” she said in a shocked voice. “These rooms—” She pointed to the dozen doors leading into rooms hardly wider than her own shoulders. One door stood open to reveal a thin pallet on the wood floor. There was hardly any space around the shakedown in the crib, but then none was needed for the kind of business transacted there. The sounds coming from behind the closed doors told her she was right. For a moment she almost turned and bolted. Visions of Mr. Turnbull standing in front of her naked as a jay, his boner bobbing about in front of his groin caused her to feel ill. “Don’t go gettin’ all moral on me. You’re the one what barged in here,” Ethan said. He opened a door and pointed. Gloria swallowed her shock and went to him. She clutched fiercely at the man, trying to bury her face in his broad chest. “I need you so, Ethan. I do!” “Git on in there.” He closed the door behind him. The room was eight feet by six with a low ceiling. From somewhere light seeped in, but it wasn’t much and Gloria could hardly see Ethan in 34

Winter Love the dimness. “He’s dead, Ethan. He d-died.” “Who? Your pa?” “Abraham. My husband. I killed him.” She began crying and wiped her nose on her coat sleeve. It wasn’t very ladylike, but she was too scared to much care. “You shot him? If you’d used a knife, there’d be blood all over you.” “I—he was naked and he wanted things, sex things, and I began my wifely duty and he just keeled over.” She turned frightened eyes to Ethan, wanting him to tell her everything would be all right. How he could make it so, Gloria had no idea. But she needed him to say it, even if it was a lie. “Heart attack?” “It must have been. He was an old man.” “You were too much woman for the old geezer,” Ethan said, laughing. “It’s not funny. He’s dead!” “There, there,” Ethan said, taking her into his arms. “Calm down, why don’t you?” “I can’t. This is all too much for me. What will my pa say?” “I’ll tell you what I say. To hell with him. To hell with that old man who thought to buy himself a pretty young bride.” “Pretty? You think I’m pretty?” She turned her bright, tear-filled blue eyes up to study Ethan. 35

Aurora Jamison “You never told me I was pretty before.” A faint smile crept to her lips. He kissed her. Gloria was expecting anything, everything, nothing. Her head spun with confusion, and the kiss only added to it. He broke off the kiss, caught his breath, then kissed her harder. This time she returned the passion. Ethan was familiar, and she needed a release from all the strange things that had happened to her. She folded easily into the familiar curves of his body, felt his heart beating, knew she had come to the right man to save her from her dilemma. Their kisses turned more aggressive as they went back over erotic trails long since scouted. Her tongue slipped from between her lips and into his mouth for an amorous duel. She remembered the first time Ethan had done this to her. Frenching, he had called it. She hardly had known what to do, but it had come naturally. Her tongue slipped and slid over his in a tumbling match they could both win. Hands running down his back, she tried to turn about. They usually made love in the stables on fragrant straw. This room was smaller than a stall, and she banged into the wall. He did not release her or ease up on the kisses lavished on her. He bore her down until she lay stretched out on her back. The pallet covering the floor was cold but warmth mounted everywhere Ethan touched her. Gloria shivered with desire. 36

Winter Love She was turning hotter in other, more intimate places, too. “You’re already wet,” he said, his hand slipping up under her skirt and following her bare leg upward. She gasped when his finger entered her pussy and began swirling around. At first it was as cold as the storm raging outside, but it quickly heated from her inner warmth. She felt her juices leaking out around the plug in her. “Fuck me, Ethan. I want to feel you inside me.” She needed the physical release almost as much as she did knowing he was near. “This isn’t enough?” he teased. He wiggled his finger around even faster. “No, I want your big cock,” she said. Gloria closed her eyes and settled back. How different this closed-in space was from the stables. After she had made love to Ethan the first time in a stall at the livery stables, it had become their habit to meet once or twice a week, whenever they could both sneak off. At first, for her it had been a strange and wonderful and scary thing. Then it had become defiance of her father that made her seek out comfort in Ethan’s arms. She threw her arms around him and drew him closer. “This? This is what you want?” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand down to his crotch. She felt the thick, pulsating erection and tugged at him, drawing him to the vee between her legs. “You know it is. You’re the only man for me.” 37

Aurora Jamison “You just say that because you like to get laid.” “I do like this,” she said, pulling more insistently on his cock, “but I love you, Ethan. I do!” Then words were no longer possible. He pushed her legs apart and settled down on his knees before sliding forward. She felt the thickness of his cock pressing insistently into her sex lips as tingles spread like wildfire throughout her body. Then she cried out as he thrust powerfully. His sudden intrusion took her by surprise. She was well oiled with her lusty juices but was not ready for such a battering ram of flesh to enter her pussy. “Hurts, Ethan, oh, that hurts.” Gloria tried to keep her voice down. Crying out would draw attention. Or would it? This was a whorehouse. Any sounds of passion that might escape her lips would be discounted or laughed at. She might even be good advertising for men out in the saloon if they heard how excited she was. “Damn, you’re tight,” he grunted. Then he began fucking faster and harder. For a moment, Gloria was taken away from her own body and troubles but then returned. He gave her the physical release, but she needed more at that instant. She was on the run and needed reassurance, not just a hard fucking. Trying to push him back, to slow him down, did no good. Ethan’s hips worked faster and faster until the 38

Winter Love carnal heat built within her pussy. Gloria gasped and felt the faint beginnings of orgasm. It disappeared when Ethan grunted and then sank on top of her. “Damn, you’re good,” he said. “Ethan?” Gloria was not sure what to say or do. It had been like this a lot of times, and she had faked her arousal and excitement to please him. Now she needed more from him than a quick cum. The man pushed back and came to his knees. She glanced at his limp organ and then into his eyes. She was not sure she had ever seen such an expression before, and it frightened her. “Ethan, you—” He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “You leave ever’thin’ to me, darlin’. Stay here for a spell, then meet me at the livery stables in an hour.” “The storm’s getting real bad,” she said. “Don’t worry your little head over that none,” he said, buttoning his fly as he stood. “I got to see some people and collect some money.” “Money? Why?” Gloria was not thinking straight. “We’re gonna need it if we want to clear out of town.” He stepped over her and left the crib, not even looking back. Gloria lay there with her legs spread wide for a few heartbeats, then closed her knees. The cold air whistled through the tiny 39

Aurora Jamison room, but Ethan’s attitude chilled her even more. Wait here? She saw no reason for that. This was a terrible place, and the only reason she had entered was seeing Ethan at the table and she needed help and— Gloria sat up, arranged her skirts, and did what she could to straighten her clothing and her chaotic mind. Peering out the door, she saw a couple men at the far end of the corridor. Something about them made her clamber to her feet, slip from the crib and go the other direction until she found a door leading out into the storm. She braved the elements and plunged into the wind. Ethan had wanted her to wait, but those men looked as if they were hunting for something—or someone. Her. She had no reason to think that. It might have been nothing more than nerves on her part after all that had happened to her that night—the last twenty-four hours. Fighting the storm gave her something other than her past woes to worry on. Staying alive might become a problem if she did not keep moving into the teeth of the storm. Gloria hardly knew it when she bumped into the side door of the familiar stables. She had struggled too long in the snowstorm to be aware of much else but her cold nose and fingers and toes. She fumbled open the door latch and slammed it behind her, grateful for the warmth 40

Winter Love inside. A Franklin stove in the far corner boiled out heat to keep the horses from freezing in their stalls. The stableman who kept the fire burning had passed out on his cot in the tack room. He snored loudly, an empty whiskey bottle on the floor beside him. Finding a spot near the stove, she warmed her hands and feet. The stables held a special place in her heart, not only because this was where she and Ethan met. She had read him poetry from a book she had found. Her reading skills had needed honing then, but she was reading to him and he had not minded her halting pronunciation and difficulty making out some words in the slim, water-stained volume. They had been together, and she had been away from her pa. There had been nothing else to desire in the world. If Jeremiah Morrison had ever caught her with a book, he would have beaten her to death. He always claimed book learning was the work of the devil. That he could hardly read the labels of the whiskey he drank in such quantities might have had something to do with his opinion. Gloria reckoned it might have been that her ma could read. When she had left, Jeremiah’s drinking had gotten worse. Or maybe it had gotten worse and she left. Gloria had been too small to know which was the cause and which was the result. “Dammit, she’s not gettin’ away from us again,” came the harsh words as the main door to 41

Aurora Jamison the stables opened and let in a gust of winter wind. Gloria peered around the edge of a stall and saw the two men she had fled from back at the saloon. Their heavy coats hung open now as they shook off the snow. She put her hand to her mouth to keep from crying aloud when she saw badges pinned to their vests. “You think that yahoo lied to us?” “Ethan Huggins? He’s a’ feared of his own shadow. He wouldn’t dare. Besides, he thinks he’d collect some of the reward money if we catch her.” “I don’t see her. Let’s get our hands warm and get to huntin’ for her.” Gloria ducked back and looked around frantically. She was in an alcove with nowhere to run or hide. Even if she cowered behind the stove, they would see her. She prepared to be caught. “That reward money the old coot’s son put up is callin’ out to me. We can get warm later, with a nice woman on each arm and a belly full of whiskey with what’s bein’ offered.” The other deputy grumbled, but they left. The cold wind from outside vanished as suddenly as it came, and Gloria no longer heard the two lawmen. For the longest time, Gloria simply knelt, pressed hard against the stall. She finally summoned enough courage to look back around, fearing the two men would be standing there, waiting to grab her. There were 42

Winter Love four horses in the stable. Nothing more. Run, she told herself. That was the only way. She was not much of a horsewoman but she had ridden a few times. Pulling down a saddle from atop a bar at the side of the stables, she picked a small mare that wouldn’t be too frisky with her. It took her a long time to get the saddle settled. The horse knew what was going to happen if she allowed the saddle to be cinched down firmly. She would have to go out into the storm, and no human was going to force her to do that. Eventually Gloria got the saddle cinched up tightly and pulled herself up. Ducking down she pushed open the main door and rode out. The stable door caught on the wind and slammed shut behind her with a grim finality. Gloria felt as if she had been cut loose to fly about aimlessly on the storm. Ethan had sold her out to the police, and Andrew Turnbull had posted a reward for her capture. All she could do was run. Into the freezing snowstorm.

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Chapter Four loria could not ride any farther. Her horse stumbled and slipped on the ice, and she knew she needed a heavier coat if she were to weather the storm. The need to keep riding to get away from Denver was countered by her very real fear of freezing to death in the saddle. “No, no,” she called out in defiance. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I won’t die!” The swirling snow lessened at that moment allowing her to see the railroad depot. She guided her tired cold horse toward the warm lights and soon stood protected from the wind by the depot building. The sound of a train out on the tracks made her perk up. She did not have to ride to get out of Denver. She had reached the very spot where she could escape in comfort. But what would she use to purchase a ticket? She had no money. Again came salvation. A man called from the edge of the platform, “You waitin’ on somebody,

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Winter Love ma’am?” “No, I need to get on that train.” Gloria had no idea where it was headed. South. Away from Denver. That was good enough for her. “I’d surely like to buy that horse from you, if you aren’t gonna ride it no more,” the man said. “It’s real important I get into town. My wife’s havin’ a baby. Terrible night for it, I know, but the station master says there ain’t nobody likely to come out in this storm with a carriage, and I have to believe him.” “Ten dollars,” Gloria said quickly, wondering if this was a decent price or if she had aimed too high. “That’s just for the horse? I need the tack, too. Make it forty dollars?” “Very well,” she said, handing the reins to the man in exchange for a sheaf of greenbacks. She felt sorry for the mare, having to retrace the road into Denver, but the wind would be at the rider’s and horse’s backs. That made the trip less dangerous than reaching this point. “Good luck to you, wherever you’re going,” the man said. “I hope your wife has a healthy baby.” The man beamed. “It’s gonna be the healthiest, loudest yelling baby boy you ever did see.” He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Could be a girl, I reckon, but I hope she won’t have her mother’s sharp tongue.” 45

Aurora Jamison Gloria had to laugh at that. Clutching the money, she bid the man goodbye and went to the ticket agent. “How far south does the train go?” “Make the right connections and you can get all the way down to San Antonio,” the agent said. “This here train’s going direct to Lamy, if the snow don’t pile up too much on the tracks down south of here. Heard tell Colorado Springs is socked in, but there’s a snowplow on the train ahead of this one.” “To Lamy, please,” Gloria said. She shivered as she passed over the fare. She still had more than twenty dollars left to show for her horse thieving. They no longer hanged horse thieves, but they did murderers. The farther she ran, the harder it would be to bring her to justice for what happened to Abraham Turnbull. “Better hustle, missy,” the ticket agent said. “You don’t want the train to leave without you. Likely to be the last one out tonight or maybe for a couple days.” “Thank you,” Gloria said. In her hurry, she swung around and was staggered by a sudden gust of wind. Grabbing for a railing was a mistake. The money clutched in her half-frozen hand caught on the gale force wind and fluttered off into the night. “No!” Gloria tried to grab the bills caught on the wind and saw it was an impossible chase. She 46

Winter Love reluctantly let her money blow away as she reached the platform, where the conductor helped her into the middle passenger car. The warmth inside convinced her she had done the right thing. A stove at the rear of the car pumped out waves of soothing heat. She sank into a seat at the middle of the car. The temperature was bearable here, neither too hot nor too cold. Leaning back, she relaxed and almost drifted off to sleep waiting for the train to pull away from the depot. And her dreams were pleasant. She remembered the best time she had been with Ethan, the feel of his warm body next to hers. It had been autumn and their sweat mingled as she snuggled close to him. Their time together had been so good. Then she remembered who had set the police on her trail. Ethan had fucked her and then turned her in to the law in exchange for whatever reward Andrew Turnbull had offered. If she had not been there at the moment of his death, she would have thought Andrew—or more likely, Daphne Turnbull—had done something to Abraham to kill him. But they had not. She had been responsible for his death. She had killed him with sex on the first night of their married life together. Missing Abraham was not likely to matter much to her, but she was fearful for what had happened and what it meant for her future. She was nodding off again when she heard footsteps in the aisle. Gloria opened one eye and 47

Aurora Jamison saw a man struggling with two heavy cases. She pegged him as a peddler and closed her eyes again as the train screeched and then lurched, beginning its long trip southward to New Mexico. Gloria dozed and this time her dreams haunted her. More than once she saw Ethan naked only to have him fade into the image of Abraham Turnbull. Each time she jerked awake, sweating. Never had she been so miserable or afraid, not even when he pa was on a drunken rampage. She had learned to deal with those binges, but how could she fight her own memories? Her own guilt? “Dammit, when are they going to stoke that fire?” The peddler got up and went to the rear of the car. Gloria sat a little straighter and found that she had been asleep in an awkward position long enough to get a kink in her neck. Rubbing it, she turned and looked backward. Her heart almost exploded. Two men came in from the passenger car just behind hers. The glow from the stove glinted off lawman’s badges. Two deputy marshals worked their way forward, looking hard at every passenger on the train. The peddler returned and flopped onto the seat across the aisle from hers, grumbling. “It’s very cold in here, isn’t it?” she said. He looked up, surprised. “Why, yes, I suppose so. For the price they 48

Winter Love charge for a ticket, you’d think the conductor would come by now and again to throw a lump of coal on the fire. There isn’t even any in the box.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the stove. “We should do something to keep warm,” she said, standing quickly and swinging around to sit between the peddler and the window. Outside, the landscape rushed past. The storm had lessened, but the deep drifts would be dangerous for anyone on foot. She was glad she was safe inside the train. Gloria glanced back and saw the two lawmen coming closer. She slid her arm through the peddler’s and slid closer to him, leaning over to put her head on his shoulder. He stiffened, not knowing what was going on, but he quickly relaxed and turned into her. “Mind if I go to sleep like this?” she asked. “It is so nice being close to you.” She snuggled down a little more and forced herself to relax. She tried to keep her breathing slow and even, imitating sleep. “Howdy,” came a gruff voice. “You and the missus goin’ far?” “I…eh… we, not that far. Just to Colorado Springs,” the peddler said. “You get on in Denver?” “What’s this about?” “Don’t get your dander up, mister,” the second deputy marshal said. “We’ve huntin’ for a fugitive. Killed a man back in Denver.” 49

Aurora Jamison “Do tell,” the peddler said. “Hope you catch him.” “Him?” snorted the first lawman. “Got a hundred-dollar reward already posted and rumor has it there might be twice that soon.” “That is a mighty fine incentive for you to do your duty,” the peddler said. Gloria fought to keep her face relaxed instead of laughing. He had probably been run out of too many towns by earnest lawmen like these to have much respect for them. “Don’t get sassy, mister,” the marshal said. “Come on, Jake,” the second said, pulling at his partner’s arm. “We got two more cars to check. Might just be she’s not on the train.” Gloria almost cried out. She felt the peddler’s arm go stiff. He had thought the lawmen hunted for a man. Now he knew different, but he said nothing. She continued to feign sleep until she heard the door at the front of the car slam shut. She peered out cautiously and saw both lawmen had left. “You’re not asleep,” the peddler said. He jerked away from her and looked hard into her blue eyes as she sat up. “Not now,” Gloria said. “Are you the one they’re hunting for?” “Who?” “Don’t give me that, lady. The two deputies said they were huntin’ for a woman.” 50

Winter Love “You must be mistaken,” Gloria said. She felt heat rising to her cheeks and she looked away guiltily. “Might be,” the peddler said. “Must be.” He sat back and stared straight ahead, stiff and silent. Gloria considered trying to sleep on his shoulder again. Having a man so close comforted her. She loved the smell of a man, the play of muscles, the feeling of being safe with him near. But the peddler grew restive and finally got to his feet. Gloria leaned back and watched him stomp to the rear of the car, fiddle with the stove and then come back. “I’m not going to freeze. Where’s that damned conductor?” He walked to the front of the car and disappeared through the connecting door. For a moment Gloria sat and waited. Then she realized something was wrong, very wrong. She shot to her feet and rushed forward to peer through the sooty window in the door. As she had thought, something was wrong. The peddler was waving his arms around and speaking angrily to the two lawmen. Although the clacking of the steel wheels against the rails drowned out his words, Gloria had no trouble figuring out what he was saying. She dashed to the rear of the car, opened the door and stepped onto the narrow platform between cars. The cold wind whistled past and sucked the heat from her. Closing her eyes, she 51

Aurora Jamison stood for a moment, then summoned the courage to jump. She hit a snow bank and sank down deep into it as the train raced along the track on its way to Colorado Springs. Gloria sputtered and thrashed about and finally got to her feet. Dawn lit the distant horizon and cast an eerie glow over the snowfield. She was not quite sure where she was, but along the tracks lay Colorado Springs. There had to be somewhere else—anywhere else—she could go. Returning to Denver was out of the question. Going eastward onto the plains accomplished nothing. That left only one direction. West. Into the mountains. Gloria began walking, lifting her skirts and feet high to walk steadily through the deep snowbanks.

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Chapter Five

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loria Morrison turned her face up to the bright blue sky and saw majestic Pike’s Peak wreathed in clouds. She used this rocky marker to keep from walking in circles. “Always keep it in front of me,” she muttered over and over, long after her numbed lips were too chapped to form the words. There were towns all along the base of the mountain. She remembered that the earliest settlements were not in Colorado Springs where the train had gone but deeper in the foothills in the direction of Pike’s Peak. Miners had searched every rock for gold and silver before the hot springs drew businessmen to build their hotels and health spas. Hundreds of people a year came to the hot springs to take the waters. Gloria kept moving throughout the day and, as the sun set with surprising speed behind the towering mountains, she caught the barest hint of warmth against her face. Turning like an animal 53

Aurora Jamison sniffing the air, she felt it and inhaled deeply. The heavy sulfur odor on otherwise cold, crisp fresh air, told her a hot spring was not too far off. This lent speed to her frostbitten feet. As she rounded the bend in a canyon leading deeper into the Rockies, she saw huge plumes of white steam rising from a small stone hut. Stumbling faster now, she reached the stone building and flung open the door to luxurious warmth. Sobbing with relief she tumbled inside and slipped on the damp floor. Gloria pressed her hand against the stone. It was wet. Water that hadn’t frozen thrilled her and gave her renewed hope. She moved closer to the steamy pool, rimmed with the yellow from sulfur and other minerals. The pungent odor breathed life into her lungs and sent thrills throughout her body. “I’m alive,” she cried. “I survived.” More than this, she had escaped the two lawmen on the train. Denver lay far behind her in both time and thought. Everything that had happened to her was a distant, if unpleasant, memory. Sitting on the edge of the pool Gloria took off her snow-caked shoes and dangled her bare feet in the hot water. She gasped with pain. It was not a good idea to immerse frostbitten flesh into such heat, but in a few seconds the pain went away and left only a soothing sensation that crept up her 54

Winter Love legs. Like a lover’s hand the warmth inched upward, ever upward, and let her relax. How wrong could I have been about Ethan? she wondered. He had been her lover, her first love and she had naively thought he would be beside her forever and ever. Still, in spite of his betrayal, she had much to thank him for. Gloria closed her eyes and began splashing her bare feet in the inviting pool. He had shown her the world of love, no matter that she knew now he had never loved her. He had wanted one thing only, and she had given it willingly. Gloria had wondered about the old saying, “A man trades love for sex and a woman trades sex for love.” In her case, she had been only too willing to have Ethan love her and had asked nothing in return for him. She wrapped her arms around herself, thinking how her life might have been different if Ethan had taken her away from the church before she was forced to marry Abraham Turnbull. The only way things might have been better for her was not enduring the marriage and the old man’s death. To be with Ethan would have been almost as bad, now that she knew what he was really like. Slapping her arms around her body brought circulation back to her hands. She unfastened her coat and dropped it behind her. The heat inside the spa worked its magic on her, and she started to sweat. Unbidden, she unfastened her dress and 55

Aurora Jamison shucked out of it. The lure of the hot water in the natural stone basin proved too great for her. She slid off her undergarments and cast them away and slipped down into the pool, luxuriating in the warmth surrounding her. Tipping her head back, she left only her face above water. It had been so long since she had felt so relaxed and at peace. Gloria arched her back and brought her chest up so her nipples were just out of the water. The air was colder than the water and caused the tiny nubs to harden. She sighed. How much like having a man touching them this was. The thought caused her eyes to pop wide open. She lifted her head out of the water enough to see a shabbily dressed man standing at the edge of the pool, watching her intently. “Wh-what are you doing?” Gloria sputtered and thrashed about, trying to cover herself with her hands. She hardly knew what to do. Getting her feet under her, she found the bottom of the pool. The instant she put weight down, her feet slid along the slippery, smooth stone and sent her thrashing about. “Watching to see if you need rescuin’, I reckon,” he said. “I don’t!” “Then I’m just standin’ here, enjoyin’ the view.” “Quit that! Quit that right now!” she raged. Gloria curled her knees up and floated. This took 56

Winter Love her breasts out of the man’s lusting view but left her with the problem of getting out of the pool and clothing herself while retaining her dignity. “You tellin’ me to lie?” “What?” “It’d be a lie if I told you I wasn’t enjoyin’ the view. You’re about the purtiest woman I ever set eyes on.” He moved closer and stared down boldly at her. Gloria sputtered and thrashed around, trying to find purchase on the bottom of the pool and failing. He was about the ugliest man she had ever seen. Dressed in the rough style of a miner, canvas pants and worn red-and-black checked flannel shirt, he looked as if he had just come to the surface. Dirt clods actually fell off his clothes as he moved around, following her as she turned in the pool. His boots were scuffed and the soles almost worn through from what she could tell. Worse than his battered clothing, he showed not one hint of politeness. He stared hard at her, rather than turning away so she could exit the pool. “That’s not what I meant. You need to learn some manners!” “Yes, ma’am, reckon that’s so. I been workin’ my claim so long, I forget how to act in polite society.” “I should think so!” He took off a filthy cap and held it in both 57

Aurora Jamison hands in front of him, like a schoolboy trying to explain a misdeed to his teacher. He stared right at her and said, “My name’s Thomas Carter, ma’am. Real pleased to make your acquaintance.” “That’s not what I meant!” Gloria was becoming angrier at him by the instant. From the way he held his cap in front of his groin, she could not tell how interested he was in her, but she had her suspicions. “I am sorry. Here, ma’am, would you like a helping hand gettin’ out of that bath?” “My clothes. Hand me my clothes. Or one of those towels!” She pointed to a stack on a stone ledge at the side of the hut. “Certainly, be pleased as punch to do that for you.” Thomas Carter never turned from her as he reached behind him and grabbed a big white fluffy towel. He held it out to her. To take the towel she would have to climb from the hot springs and give him a real eyeful. Gloria’s anger bubbled over like the springs themselves. She had enough of this man’s impertinence. Without thinking, she rose from the hot water and climbed out naked as a jay bird. For a moment, the man stared, his jaw slack. Then she saw him actually blush under his leathery skin and beard. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said, averting his gaze and holding out the towel. She grabbed it from him. “You need help dryin’ off?” The question took Gloria by surprise. With the 58

Winter Love towel pressed warmly against her bare, wet skin, she lost all her anger and actually laughed. “I am quite able to dry myself.” “You looked like you were gettin’ mighty wet.” “What?” She stared at him. He hesitantly glanced back, again a naughty schoolboy. She ran the towel down her body between her legs. “This here water’s supposed to be wetter than ordinary water,” he said. His eyes never left hers as she lifted the towel to her neck, using it as a curtain to hide her nakedness. “How’s that possible?” Everything this dirty man said took her by surprise. “How can any water be wetter than any other?” “Got them minerals in it. Sulfur and the like,” he said. “That’s supposed to make it slipperier than common water.” “Do tell.” She saw how he blinked and forced himself through willpower alone not to break their gaze. How he wanted to let his eyes dip down, just a little, to see her bare hips or maybe catch another scandalous view of her naked breasts—or even the dark thatch between her legs. But Thomas Carter steadfastly stared into her eyes. “Yup,” he said. “Will you please turn around so I may dress?” Carter faced away from her. Gloria moved a little closer to the man to pick up her clothing. She noticed two things. He was taller than she had thought when she saw him from the pool and was 59

Aurora Jamison immensely wide of shoulder and narrow at the waist. The other thing she realized was that he stank like an old goat. She dressed hurriedly, not getting all the water off her back. He would have dried it off for me, flashed through her mind. Of course he would. And what else would he have done if I showed the slightest inclination to be nice to him? “You work up at the hotel?” “Hotel?” “The Hotel Parisian, right up the path from here. This is one of their hot springs. I thought you maybe worked there and took a break to come get clean and all.” “The Hotel Parisian,” Gloria said, letting the name roll off her tongue. It had such a grand sound to it. “Do they need help there? Oh, what would you know about that?” “You’re right, ma’am, I don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout what they need in way of hired help.” “You do know that I snuck in to take the waters?” she asked. “I sorta figured that out for myself,” Carter said. “That wasn’t hard to do, was it, with you doing the same thing?” He swung around and faced her. She was just finishing lacing up her bodice, but a swell of warm white flesh still spilled up and out. This was all the additional thrill he was to get from her. Gloria 60

Winter Love finished cinching up the laces and looked at him boldly. “You may use the pool now,” she said, as if she owned the place. “That’s right kind of you, ma’am,” he said. Carter hesitated. “Well? What is it?” “You wouldn’t be inclined to wash my back, would you?” Before her shock could pass so she could find adequate words, he smiled broadly and laughed, removing any offense away. She sniffed and left, but when he could no longer see her face, she had to smile. Clutching the towel until she reached the door leading out into the cold winter evening, Gloria knew she had to go to the hotel and ask for a job. There was nowhere else for her to go. Dropping the towel, she started to thank Thomas, then saw he had wasted no time stripping down to get into the pool, suspenders dangling down at his sides and his broad chest bare. Gloria swallowed hard at the sight of his powerful arms—and the scars crisscrossing his back. “Thank you,” she said. “No, ma’am, thank you. This is ‘bout the most enjoyable evenin’ I ever spent.” She harumphed and left him, closing the door behind her. The night cold wrapped her as surely as the warmth inside the spa had, giving her 61

Aurora Jamison added reason to hurry along the path toward the brightly lit hotel set atop a low rise. She trudged along the path, thinking hard about what she ought to say and do once she got to the Hotel Parisian. It was a magnificent palace set amid the Rockies. Glass windows stretched along a verandah, all magnificently lit from within so she could see the delicate patterns etched into the glass. The exterior walls were coated with frost and clinging snow, but she could tell the paint did not have a single chip out of it. Such an imperfection would never be allowed to tarnish the image of a luxurious hotel. Gloria hesitated as she went up the front steps and stared at the double doors leading into a lobby more elegant than anything she had ever seen. She had thought Abraham Turnbull’s house was fine. The Hotel Parisian put even his posh mansion to shame. Brushing off the snow that had accumulated on her coat during the hike up to the hotel, she started to enter, then hesitated. Even with her fine—stolen—clothes, she would be out of place in the lobby. Going around the porch led her to a servant’s entrance. Steeling her nerves, she turned the brass doorknob and went inside. All eyes turned toward her as she stood holding the door open and allowing cold air to rush into the kitchen. 62

Winter Love “You born in a barn? Close the door!” “Sorry,” she said, hastily pushing the door shut behind her. The man who had spoken was dressed in a fancy tuxedo with a precisely fixed black bow tie and about the haughtiest manner she had ever seen. “You must be the one who’s come for the job. You’re late.” “I... yes, yes, I am,” Gloria said, not caring that he mistook her for someone else. “The train, Colorado Springs, snow,” she said vaguely. “No excuses. I do not tolerate excuses. Into my office,” he said. Gloria heard two of the cooks snicker as she followed the man into a room more a pantry than an actual office. “My name is Clivedon, and I am the manager of the Hotel Parisian.” “Please to make your acquaintance, Mr. Clivedon,” she said. “It’s not mister Clivedon, just Clivedon.” “Sorry,” she said. “Stop apologizing. I hate that. You will work in the kitchen unless Mrs. Underwood in housekeeping requires your services. Whatever she tells you to do, it will be as if I told you. Except for some things,” Clivedon said. Gloria looked at him sharply. He was balding, with a face wrinkled like a hound dog. His longfingered hands moved restlessly, as if they had a 63

Aurora Jamison mind of their own, but his eyes told her more than anything else about him. He eyed her with outright lust. Gloria was shocked as knowledge of what she had to do to get—and keep—this job entailed. How different Clivedon looked at her than Thomas Carter had. The miner had stared at her with open admiration while Clivedon’s look made her feel uneasy. But of the two, Gloria had to admit Clivedon was the more attractive. He was a handsome enough man and was impeccably dressed. Carter had been rough-hewn and a mile away from civility. “I would like to get to know you better,” Clivedon said. He turned, his lips pulled into a thin line when an insistent rapping came on the door to the pantry. “What is it?” he called. “There’s some trouble in the lobby, sir,” came a frantic voice. “Please, it’s an important guest.” “Get an apron and begin work right away,” Clivedon said. “Mrs. Underwood will see that you are properly attired and quartered. But right now?” Clivedon threw up his hands in surrender and stormed off. Gloria heaved a sigh of relief. If there had not been reason to call the manager away, she knew what would have happened. Clivedon had that look about him, but she was desperate for a job— for a place to hide out until the law moved on and 64

Winter Love began hunting other criminals. Squaring her shoulders, she went into the kitchen, found an apron and began work.

65

Aurora Jamison

Chapter Six

G

loria had seldom worked harder in her life or felt better about it. The Hotel Parisian had a menu with exotic foods she had only thought existed in fairy tales. When neither of the cooks was watching, she had sampled the food going out to the customers. Some she had liked and others left tastes that would not come out of her mouth. The escargot had been one of those that lingered until she took a quick sip of the cooking sherry. For the life of her, she could not understand what anyone saw in eating snails, even with the fine butter and garlic sauce the cook prepared to accompany the shelled tidbits. But she had worked, and Clivedon had been absent all day. The others in the kitchen seemed more relaxed without the manager around, and Gloria knew the reason. Continued employment depended on keeping Clivedon happy—in many ways. From the hints she got, he was a lusty man behind his gruff exterior. 66

Winter Love “That’s all for the day,” Mrs. Underwood called to her. “I can work a little longer,” Gloria said, wanting to see how the dinner items were prepared and placed on the plates. That had been a revelation for her, also. Food was not simply tossed higgledy-piggledy on a plate but had to be carefully arranged in what the cook called “presentation.” In only a single day of work, she had learned more about types of food and their preparation than she had up ‘till then. Mostly, for her, dinner had been a plate of beans or, if she was lucky, an opened airtight of tomatoes or peaches. “Get some rest, dearie,” Mrs. Underwood insisted. “I’ll need you on the maid staff on the third floor all day tomorrow. Mary has come down with pneumonia. The work will be far harder than simply chopping up vegetables.” The gray-haired woman sniffed as she looked down her nose at the cook and the other assistants. It had not taken Gloria long to figure out there was considerable tension between the housekeeping staff and those who worked in the kitchen. Each thought the other performed only menial chores. Gloria would have thought that of the kitchen staff, too, until she had seen the elaborate preparations required for so many of the menu items. Wiping off her hands, Gloria started up the backstairs to her quarters, only to have one of the 67

Aurora Jamison steps give way under her with a loud crack. She balanced precariously, one foot all the way through the rotted wood. “Don’t pull your foot up, dearie. Wait, wait,” Mrs. Underwood cried. “I told Clivedon he needed to get the carpenter working on these steps. It’s a miracle no one has broken her neck. He’ll spend hundreds of dollars for the lobby where the customers can see it and not one red cent for the backstairs.” “There, I got free,” Gloria said, pulling her foot free with the help of the housekeeper. “Don’t go that way. There are other steps in even worse condition near the top of the landing. Go through the lobby and up the main staircase. If Clivedon complains, tell him I said it was all right and that the rest of the staff will be using the main staircase until he fixes these dangerous steps!” Gloria had to chuckle at that. There was something of a constant struggle for power between the head of housekeeping and the manager. She vowed to hurry through the lobby, if any customers might be there, and get to the second floor quickly so she could retreat to her tiny room. In a way, she looked forward to working as a maid so she could see the rooms the patrons stayed in. From all the staff had said, gossiping wildly Gloria was sure, the rooms were nothing less than palatial. Her step faltered a moment when she 68

Winter Love wondered if the rooms were anywhere near as nice as those in the Turnbull mansion. It had been easy to lose herself in the work and the strange, wonderful surroundings of the Hotel Parisian and forget all about her plight. “Pardon me,” came a baritone voice from behind her. “Don’t I know you?” She turned and saw a tall, slender man dressed as expensively as any she had ever seen. His long cutaway pearl-colored coat had fancy satin lapels and stitching that told her it cost a fortune. He wore a silk tie with a headlight diamond almost as big as the end of her little finger. If all he had been was well dressed, she would have thought nothing of him, but he was about the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in all her born days. Easily a head taller than she, he had piercing eyes as black as lumps of coal. High cheeks bones and a swarthy complexion made her wonder if he might not be part Indian. He moved with an easy grace as he reached out to take her arm. Gloria pulled free when he gripped her with steely fingers. “I beg your pardon, sir,” she said sharply. “Patrons are not allowed to touch the staff.” “Staff?” He scowled, but this did nothing to make him any less handsome. “I work in the kitchen, sir.” “They must pay well here.” “They do,” Gloria said, then understood what 69

Aurora Jamison he meant. She had only the clothes on her back— and those were the rather expensive ones she had taken from the wardrobe in the Turnbull mansion. “In the kitchen, you say?” “You doubt it, sir?” “You look like someone I... know,” he said. Gloria heard the hesitation and probably the lie. “She must be a very lucky woman, then. If you will excuse me, I have to go.” Gloria saw Clivedon glaring at her. “I want to ask you some questions,” he said. “Please, sir. My manager—” Gloria got no farther. “You know the rules,” Clivedon said, his anger forming like a dark black cloud over Pike’s Peak. The darkness would soon spew forth storm. “He stopped me,” Gloria tried to explain. “A likely story. You are fined a day’s pay for violating our rules. Sir,” Clivedon said, turning to the tall patron, “please accept my apologies. These young girls are so forward these days.” “I stopped her under the mistaken impression that I knew her,” the man said, his voice booming. “There is no reason to punish her for my actions.” “Very well, but rules are rules,” Clivedon said. “I was going to ask her to join me for dinner in your fine restaurant,” the man said. “Absolutely not! Discipline. The others on the Hotel Parisian staff, why, they—” Clivedon was just warming up to his tirade when the man held 70

Winter Love up his hand. “I understand, sir.” He turned to Gloria and extended his arm. “If you will join me for dinner, I understand the Navajo Springs Hotel has superb cuisine.” He glared at Clivedon, as if daring him to protest. “There cannot be any reason for you to object to that, could there? I can easily have a bellman remove my luggage to another hotel.” “There are many good hotels in Manitou Springs,” Clivedon started. “But none are as elegant or well appointed as the Hotel Parisian,” Gloria finished, thinking to remedy some of the impending doom. If the man actually left the hotel for another, she would certainly be fired. “My suite is comfortable,” the man said. “Is there any reason for me to vacate it? And tell my friends in Denver about this?” “Why, no, not at all,” Clivedon said, eyeing the man as if he were a side of beef. Gloria knew the manager was estimating the man’s net worth and how much he might bring to the Hotel Parisian. “Please accept my apologies and extend an invitation to all your friends who might come to Manitou Springs for the waters.” “I’m sure your spa is adequate,” the man said. “Only the finest,” Gloria piped up. “The sulfur waters are quite restorative.” “You are blessed to have such an employee,” he said. “Now, miss, will you accompany me to 71

Aurora Jamison dinner?” Gloria looked at Clivedon whose head bobbed up and down. He was not pleased but saw the opportunity to expand his guest list to this gentleman’s undoubtedly wealthy friends. “The Navajo Springs Hotel?” “That would be for the best,” Clivedon said. “Morale, you know.” “Summon a carriage for us, then, if you would,” the man said to Clivedon as if he were no more than a menial. Gloria laughed when Clivedon scuttled off to obey. “I still might be fired, and I do like the job,” she said. “I’ll make it worth your while, if you are fired. Do you know the employees at the hotel well?” “I suppose so,” Gloria said, wondering what the man was angling for. They walked from the Hotel Parisian to the carriage and were whisked away down the hill toward another of the elegant hotels surrounding the hot springs in the valley. Before she knew it, she was being escorted into the Navajo Spring Hotel. Gloria did not think it was anywhere near as luxurious as the Hotel Parisian, but it was far nicer than the shack along Cherry Creek where she and her pa had lived for so many years. “I see you do not approve of this place,” the man said. “Oh, it’s all right,” Gloria said trying to be as 72

Winter Love nonchalant as possible. “But it’s not in the same class as where you work?” “My thoughts exactly,” she said, smiling. As they were escorted into the restaurant, the man said suddenly, “Pardon my ill manners. I am Henry Slate, at your service.” He half bowed in her direction. “I’m,” Gloria started. Then hesitated. It would not do to tell someone who would return to Denver her real name. He might mention it and a man of his social standing would certainly know—or know of—Abraham Turnbull. It would not be long before the marshals would be thundering into Manitou Springs after her. “Yes?” “My name’s Glory Peak.” She tried to come up with a name that did not sound invented, but her mind was spinning wildly and such lies required work. “A lovely name for a lovely woman.” Slate held out the chair for her. Gloria hastily sat and found herself staring across a table set with china and fine crystal at the handsomest man she had ever seen. His dark hair was swept straight back from his forehead, revealing a small widow’s peak. In the dim light from the candle on the table, she thought she saw a faint scar running along his left cheekbone, but he turned slightly so she could not get a closer look. 73

Aurora Jamison “Tell me, Glory,” he said, reaching across and engulfing her hand in his powerful one, “are there others who work at the Hotel Parisian who look like you?” “Am I not pretty enough, Mr. Slate?” He laughed easily. “You are quite charming,” he said. “I meant any with dark hair and blue eyes who have come to work in the last day or two?” Gloria fought down her nerves and did not blink as she stared into his eyes. “The hotel prides itself on its staff. Clivedon does not hire anyone who wanders in.” “References, eh?” Slate pursed his lips as he thought. “So, no one you work with is newly hired?” “No, sir,” she said honestly. “No one.” And what is your interest? Gloria did not put that thought into words. And then her thoughts became chaotic as he pulled her hand closer and gently kissed it. “I’m glad,” he said. “Why is that, sir?” “Let’s order,” Slate said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it and summoning the waiter. He ordered for them both, and Gloria was glad. She was not exactly certain what Slate asked for but the taste of every item was exquisite as it came in waves, each served by a different waiter. She sipped at the wine and wondered if it or her handsome escort caused her head to spin. 74

Winter Love There was no doubt of Slate’s interest in her. He lavished her with praise, made witty conversation and occasionally touched her for just a heartbeat longer than polite society would allow. Gloria found such intimate contact thrilling, especially when done in such a way that the serving staff were not—quite—aware of it. She felt as if she had embarked on some forbidden, secret romance. By the time they finished an airy chocolate dessert, she was both content and excited at the being in Slate’s company. He ordered the waiters about without once looking in their direction, commanding them and knowing they would obey. This impressed Gloria almost as much as the way his eyes never left her. Sometimes, those dark eyes would be laughing, as if they shared a small, intimate joke with her. Other times his gaze was bold, even lustful as he stared at her breasts. When he did this, Gloria had the urge to unlace her bodice and expose herself fully to him. What would Slate do if he was given the chance to take her naked breasts in his hands, into his mouth? Thinking what this suave gentleman from Denver would do in such a case made Gloria weak in the knees and more than a little wet in response. She wondered if it were possible for her to want him as much as he obviously lusted after her? Gloria tensed when he reached across the cleared dinner table again and took her hand in his. 75

Aurora Jamison “You seem distraught,” he said. “It’s the company,” she replied. This did not produce the reaction she expected. Gloria had meant to compliment him but instead it turned him colder than the snow outside the restaurant. “What do you mean by that?” “You make me uneasy,” she said honestly. “I’ve never met a man quite like you before.” He drew back and folded into himself. While still outwardly handsome, what had made him so attractive disappeared. “I am sorry,” she said. “Have I said something to offend you? I meant only that I have never been in the company of such a handsome man such as yourself.” “You don’t know me.” “Why, yes, I do,” she said. Again Gloria realized she had said the wrong thing. If he had become distant before, he turned to ice now. She rushed on to explain. “You’re generous and sophisticated to one such as me. I’m nothing more than a kitchen worker, not even trusted to do serious cooking. In spite of this you have been most gracious. That means you have a kind heart.” And how I want to find out about a different portion of your anatomy! “Yes, of course. That’s all you know of me?” “You are obviously well off,” she said, not wanting to linger on this obvious aspect. He must know Abraham Turnbull if he had anything to do 76

Winter Love with Denver society. And if not Abraham, then his son and bitch of a daughter-in-law. They were the society mavens, spending the old man’s money like water and pretending to be something and someone. “Your expression changed when you mentioned Denver,” Slate said. “Why is that?” “I... I want to see it some day. I have been working my way up from the south.” “Where might that be?” “New Mexico,” she said, worrying that her lies might entrap her if she got too specific. A man like Henry Slate undoubtedly was well traveled and knew of places she had never heard of, much less seen. She was born and raised in Denver, and even that Denver was far different from that a man like this would know. “We should go. Back to the Hotel Parisian.” “Yes, of course,” Gloria said, her mind going wild with the possibilities. Inviting him to her room was out of the question. All she had was a small bed, hardly wide enough for herself, much less a man as tall and strong as Henry Slate. Then she blushed, thinking that there was no reason for her to think in terms of bed width. She wanted him atop her—inside her, fucking her. Her bed was more than adequately large for that. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. Gloria wilted a little when she caught his male scent and felt the play of his powerful 77

Aurora Jamison muscles. “The carriage won’t take long getting you back to the Hotel Parisian,” he said. She opened her mouth, then closed it, no words coming out. Gloria finally corralled her rampaging thoughts and said, “You’re not coming back to the hotel? With me?” “I have business to conduct,” Slate said. “But it is late. Can’t you wait until morning?” He laughed harshly. “I wasted time with you over dinner.” “Wasted!” “Excuse me,” Slate said hastily. “That’s not what I meant. I have business to conduct and very little time. Dinner was well-spent time.” “I suppose you have beautiful women on your arm for dinner every night of the week,” Gloria said, feeling crushed. “None so lovely as you, Miss Peak,” he said. “Be that as it may, I have much work to do and must see you off.” “Yes, thank you for such a fine dinner,” she said. “Perhaps later,” Slate hinted. Gloria perked up, in spite of herself. She had let her imagination run wild throughout dinner, thinking of Slate naked next to her in bed, touching her lightly, then taking her powerfully. Her pussy began to churn as she wondered about his hidden attributes, if his cock was as big as she 78

Winter Love thought it might be, if his skill in bed matched her expectations. A man so handsome, rich, and debonair had to have plenty of experience in bed, honing lovemaking skills. Forget your business, Henry! Take me back to the hotel and take me! I want you to fuck me! “Yes, later,” Gloria said instead of what was really on her mind. Her cheeks were hot, and her heart pounded fiercely. She let him put her into a carriage that took her back to her servant’s quarters and a solitary bed. But her dreams that night were of a Henry Slate, deliciously naked, with a huge erection—and all the time in the world to pleasure her.

79

Aurora Jamison

Chapter Seven

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loria shivered as she trudged up the path, carrying two buckets of water. The only spring close to the Hotel Parisian yielding drinking water was some distance away and she, as the newest employee, got the task of fetching the cooking water. Shivering from the cold, she worked her way back up the snowy path. Gloria jumped a foot when an unexpected voice whispered, “give you a hand with that, ma’am?” Gloria swung around, sloshing water. It hit the path and melted the snow, then froze into a clear patch of ice. “You frightened me, Mr. Carter,” she said. The man stood from behind a snowbank and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry ‘bout that, ma’am. Didn’t know what else to do.” “You could have—” Gloria bit off the words. What could he do? He was still dressed in the same shabby clothing he had worn yesterday, 80

Winter Love although he appeared far cleaner. “Kin I give you a hand totin’ those? They look like quite a load for a little lady like you.” “I am capable of doing my own work, thank you,” she said. “You shouldn’t be around here like this. If my employer ever saw you, he’d fire me and probably thrash you.” “You mean Clivedon? He’s quite a piece of work,” Carter said, chuckling. “Never saw a man meaner ‘n him, though I have seen stepped on rattlesnakes with better dispositions.” This brought a smile to Gloria, but she quickly forced it away. “I’m glad to see you have availed yourself of the waters.” “You mean I’m all cleaned up and all?” Thomas Carter looked down, as if seeing himself for the first time. “Don’t happen to me much, I admit. Do you like me all squeaky clean like this?” “I have work to do,” she said tartly. “I don’t mean to be rude. Please excuse me while I get this water to the cook. She’s probably already wondering what’s keeping me.” “I kin tell her that—” “You’ll tell her nothing, sir!” Gloria flared. “I like the job and want to keep it.” “You’re cookin’ ‘n cleanin’.” “I am good at both. As soon as I finish my chores in the kitchen, I have to begin work upstairs.” 81

Aurora Jamison “The third floor?” Gloria looked up the hill to the Hotel Parisian and let her gaze rise to the lofty top floor. The others in the kitchen talked of the rooms there in hushed tones. The men renting those suites lived like kings, and only the richest of the rich could afford even a night there. Why, one room rented costs as much as ten dollars a night! And she would be in that room after she reported to Mrs. Underwood for work. She sighed, wondering if Henry Slate had a room up there. Probably. That could be why Clivedon had relented so easily when Henry had demanded to take her out to dinner. “You thinkin’ on what those rooms must be like?” asked Carter. “I’ll find out,” Gloria said, “if you will let me get about my work.” “I kin...” Thomas Carter fell silent when he saw Mrs. Underwood standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen, hands on her broad hips and looking angry. “I do have to go. It was good seeing you again, Mr. Carter.” “Wait, I never got your name.” “Gloria,” she said, her real name slipping out before she could stop herself. If too many people knew her real name, it would not take long for the marshals from Denver to track her down. But what difference did it make if this down and out 82

Winter Love miner knew? He wasn’t likely to speak to any of the lawmen on her trail. “You quit dawdling, young lady,” Mrs. Underwood called. “Pour that water into the sink and get a decent apron on. There’s work to be done, and Clivedon wants it finished before noon. So do I!” “Yes, Mrs. Underwood,” she said, struggling with the buckets. After emptying the water, it took only a few more minutes to complete her chores in the kitchen and be given cleaning rags and feather duster for use upstairs. “You will make the beds, dust and be sure the pitchers and mirrors are spotless. Take out the chamber pots, too, of course.” “Of course,” Gloria said, not relishing that. At least it was winter and they would not smell too bad. “Lay a fire but don’t light it. Clivedon sees to that personally when he checks each room. The guest must always be completely satisfied.” “I understand,” Gloria said. Her mind was already far ahead of her body going to the third floor with its spacious rooms and utter luxury. Henry must have a room there. Perhaps he would still be in his room and they could— “Pay attention,” Mrs. Underwood snapped. “You are daydreaming.” Gloria made a small sound she hoped conveyed her apology, but her mind was running away with 83

Aurora Jamison her, spinning fantasies that might never come true. They all revolved around the handsome, rich man who had taken her to dinner the night before. Mrs. Underwood completed her instructions and set Gloria off to her work. Hurrying up the main staircase, Gloria reached the third floor and stared down the corridor. She had thought Mr. Turnbull’s house was sumptuous. The Hotel Parisian showed how much more luxury could be heaped into a single corridor. Drifting along, she used her feather duster although it was not needed. When she reached the room at the far end of the carpeted corridor, she tentatively tried the doorknob. Mrs. Underwood had told her to ignore those rooms that were locked and only clean those she could enter easily. The clear, cut crystal doorknob turned silently and the door opened on well-oiled hinges. The room drapes had been drawn, leaving it in darkness. Gloria made her way through the room and pulled back the drapes to give herself light enough to clean. She gasped when she saw that the bed was still occupied. She had intruded on a guest. Rather than closing the drape, she made a beeline for the door, intent on getting out of the room before the sleeper awoke. She did not make it. “Hold it right there,” came a cold voice. “I’m sorry, sir,” Gloria said. “The door was open. I thought the room was empty and I could 84

Winter Love clean and—” “Glory?” She spun and stared, open-mouthed. It was as if her thoughts had been transformed into reality. Henry Slate sat upright in the bed, the blankets down to his waist, leaving a broad, hairy chest exposed. “Mr. Slate! I didn’t know this was your room. I thought it was empty. Mrs. Underwood, the head housekeeper said that—” “Quit babbling and close the door.” “Sorry, sir, right away.” Gloria started to spin through the door and pull it shut behind her, glad to escape such an embarrassing situation, when Slate barked out a new command. “Stay in the room. Close the door.” “Sir, I’ve explained.” Gloria swallowed hard when Slate threw back the blankets and stood. He was naked. The light from the single window open to the outside allowed a sunbeam to slant in, highlighting his privates. Gloria tried to pull her eyes off his cock and couldn’t. It was huge. And as she stared it began growing, standing, becoming an erection. “You like what you see?” A million thoughts ran through her mind. All she could do was nod. “Then don’t stand just there. Come to me.” He held out his arms, offering to enfold her and pull her close. 85

Aurora Jamison “I shouldn’t,” she said, but she knew she wanted to. Ever since they had dinner the night before, Henry Slate had been in her thoughts constantly. Like this. “You work for the Hotel Parisian, don’t you?” She nodded. “You’re supposed to cater to the guest’s wishes? Then come here.” “What if Mrs. Underwood finds me? I could lose my job.” “Lock the door.” Slate’s words crackled with vitality. More than this, they ordered her to do exactly what she wanted. She turned the key in the lock. The sharp metallic snap of the bolt sliding home made her jump. The thought of a man had never affected her quite like this, even when she had been with Ethan that first time behind the church. “Come to me,” he said, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. She moved slowly, wondering if this was how a bird felt when a snake mesmerized it. Gloria doubted it. The bird did not want its fate. Never had she wanted hers more! Slate’s arms closed around her and drew her in tight to his hard body. She felt the thick hair on his chest crinkle against her cheek. She turned and kissed the bare flesh. His hands slipped around her body and ran down her back, touching and pressing until he cupped her buttocks. When he squeezed down on the twin moons of her 86

Winter Love asscheeks, he found the key to her emotions—and her arousal. Gloria’s legs went weak, and she sagged down slowly, kissing as she went to her knees in front of him. “Go on,” he said. His strong fingers moved to the back of her head, guiding her forward, keeping her in place. As if she wanted to leave now! The plum-tipped cock bucked about in front of her face. She reached out with trembling hands and took the long, hard hot stalk and began stroking up and down. He moaned softly, encouraging her. She had worried that he might not like this or that she would do something wrong. She popped the very end of his cock into her mouth and began working her tongue about. At first she used light, teasing touches and finally cradled the long length against her tongue to take more of his prick into her mouth. Never had she felt more connected with a man, and from the words he mumbled, she knew he appreciated the way her mouth worked over his hardness. He urged her on, and she obliged. In and out of her face he moved, fucking her slowly. But after a few minutes Gloria wanted more. She drew away from his heavy shaft and looked up at him. The tangle of hair on his chest drew her fingers. She reached up and gripped and pulled. “I want more,” Slate said. “I want you.” 87

Aurora Jamison He reached down and drew her upward. Gloria flowed like a river, molding herself to his hardness. She clung fiercely to him and paused, the side of her head pressed into his chest so she could hear the strong throb-throb of his heart. So engrossed in the way he engulfed her, held her, made her feel warm against the cold, that she hardly knew what he was doing behind her back until her apron slipped away. Her skirt followed quickly. She stepped over it and lost her balance, tumbling down atop him on the bed. They both laughed as she worked her way up so she could stare down into his eyes. “You’re still overdressed,” he said. “I’m cold.” “I can change that in a few minutes,” he promised. And she believed him. Already she felt flushed. When he reached up and unfastened her blouse, letting her breasts come tumbling out, he did not allow them to get cold. His hands closed over those mounds of sensitive flesh and began working, kneading, catching at the nipples and rolling them about. Gloria caught her breath as she felt those tiny pink nubs harden with need. “I want you so,” she whispered. “You’ll get all I have to give,” he said. His knowing hands moved this way and that. Before she knew it, Gloria was skinned out of her blouse and completely naked as she straddled his waist. 88

Winter Love Reaching down, she stroked over the hot, hardness poking up. She closed her eyes and was taken a thousand miles away to a perfect land where Henry loved her and wanted her as much as she wanted him. Lifting her hips and scooting forward, she hesitated. His cock rested against her damp pussy lips for just a moment. Then she relaxed and came down on that up-thrusting pillar of flesh. His cock slid fully, easily, hotly, all the way up into her needy pussy. They both gasped at the sudden intrusion. Gloria leaned forward, her fingers slipping through the mat of hair on his chest. How she loved the feel. His breathing had quickened, but she knew he was getting more aroused by everything she did. She felt his cock jerking about in her inner tightness. “Go on,” he said in a husky voice. “Fuck yourself. Ride me hard.” Gloria lifted up and sank down slowly, taunting him. She thought she could keep doing this until he begged for more. She was wrong. She was too aroused herself. Her hips began moving up and down faster like a shuttlecock. The heat mounted with her pussy, but this was only a fraction of what set her off, gasping and moaning with desire. Henry was about the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was everything she could possibly want, and he wanted her. He didn’t 89

Aurora Jamison demean her or make her feel small. The pressure of his hands on her breasts thrilled her beyond words. Heat flooded down into her belly from her well-handled boobs and met the rising tide from her pussy. The collision in her midriff caused her to stiffen and arch her back, then let out a long, heartfelt cry of pure release. “So nice, Henry, so nice,” she sobbed out. “I want more. I want to really fuck you.” “Oh, yes, anything,” she said. She was close to climax, but she wanted to please him. He lifted her powerfully and dropped her into the soft feather bed. “Onto your hands and knees. I want to fuck you like a dog.” He rolled her onto her belly and drew her upward into the position he desired. She felt him moving behind her, pressing his upper thighs into the taut, rounded half moons of her ass. Then she felt his long cock part her sex lips and dip down. “Oh, yes, that’s what I want, too!” He reached around her waist and began stroking over her belly, lower, to her pussy lips. Then he found her tiny pink clit and pressed his finger into it. She thought she had been plunged into a lake of pure fire. Nothing prepared her for the combination of his finger flicking lightly across her clit and the deep lunges that took him all the way into her pussy. He fucked her as hard and good as she had ever been. 90

Winter Love Heat exploded within her and lifted her far away. She heard him grunt and felt him pull her powerfully into the circle of his groin, and then he sank down atop her. For a moment, they lay like that, and then he rolled away. “I’m so lucky,” she said, putting her arms around him and snuggling closer in the soft bed. “I never thought I’d find a man like you.” He said nothing for a moment, then kissed her ear gently and whispered, “Tell me now. Tell me what you wouldn’t before.” “What’s that, Henry?” “About the girl who has just come to work here. I’ve looked for her but can’t find her.” “Who?” “The one who looks like you. Dark hair, blue eyes. I’ve asked at every other hotel in Manitou Springs, and they’ve not hired anyone. You’ve worked at this hotel. You don’t have to hide her from me.” “What’s she to you?” Slate kept working with his mouth, kissing and licking. His tongue slowly made a circuit around her ear as his thigh pressed between her legs and warmly rubbed across her cunt lips. She felt the desires rising within her again—and apprehension. “I need to find her. You match her description, but you’ve worked here for a long time. You don’t need to protect her.” 91

Aurora Jamison Gloria thought her heart would explode in her chest. Her mind raced, but the warm muzzy sensation of being so well fucked addled her brain. “I know of someone, but she doesn’t work at the hotel. Down in the valley, at one of the stores.” “There’s no one like that,” he said. “I have asked.” “You never answered why she’s more important than... this,” Gloria said, trying to keep from sounding too frantic. She reached between them and found his limp prick. She began massaging it and felt life stirring within. Keeping him distracted was the only way she could him from asking more questions—questions she would not be able to answer without giving herself away. She had come so close before, with her name, when he had first seen her in the lobby. “That feels good,” Slate said. “Keep doing it.” Don’t die on me, she thought. Not like Abraham did. Her fingers got him hard again and then she slid around so he could enter her once more. As she moved, she felt something hard under the pillow. Her hand closed on something long and hard between them—but the barrel of this gun under the pillow was harder. In one hand she held his erection and in the other his six-shooter. Never had she felt more torn in her life about what to do. 92

Winter Love Then the answer came naturally, she lay back and let him finish without suspecting she knew of his pistol under the pillow.

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Chapter Eight

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loria sat on the back step of the Hotel Parisian and wrapped her arms around her body. She shook, but not from the cold. She wiped her nose and tried to keep from crying. She had spent two incredible hours with a man who was everything she could possibly want, and she was terrified of what would happen. Henry Slate had fucked her as good as she had ever gotten, but he had also bombarded her with questions she could not answer. How can I tell him I’m wanted for murder? The thought kept rising to the surface of her mind, but another, more sinister one, pushed it aside. He is looking for me and doesn’t know it. She wished she could have gone through his luggage to see if he was a lawman. He must have a badge somewhere if he wanted to find her but did not know exactly what she looked like. Every question he asked of her centered on finding her— and he would have, except the first time they had 94

Winter Love met, Clivedon had saved her. Gloria had not even realized it at the time, but Clivedon made it sound as if she had worked there forever. Henry Slate had assumed she was not the one he hunted. How can I not be Gloria Morrison? “Ma’am?” Gloria jumped a foot, then relaxed a mite when she saw Thomas Carter standing at the side of the porch. He looked at her intently. “Are you all right?” “Of course I am, Mr. Carter. Don’t think twice on it.” “It’s him, ain’t it? Henry Slate.” “What do you know of him?” “I know he’s lookin’ fer you, and he’s not a man who can be fooled fer long.” “What are you going on about?” Gloria tried to keep her voice level, even nonchalant. She knew it came out sounding shrill and afraid. There was no way she could hold back that screechy sound because she was afraid. “He’s lookin’ fer a woman from Denver accused of killin’ her husband.” “Don’t be silly. Why would he do a thing like that?” “Because he’s about the meanest hombre ever, that’s why. Henry Slate is a killer, and he is a bounty hunter who never stops until he gets his man. Or woman.” She looked sharply at Thomas Carter, 95

Aurora Jamison wondering if he was pulling her leg. The miner stood stock still with an expression that showed not a jot of humor. “You mean it, don’t you?” “You got to get out of Manitou Springs and hide. It’s only a matter of time ‘fore he figgers out who you are.” “He’s not looking for me. Why would you think that?” Carter fumbled about in the pocket of his dilapidated coat and pulled out a sheet from the Rocky Mountain News. He held it up so she could read the headlines. Gloria felt the blood rushing from her head. Although sitting down, she wobbled and would have fallen over if Thomas Carter had not rushed over to put his arm around her and steady her. “He’s ‘bout the best paid bounty hunter in Colorado,” he said. “He makes a durn good livin’ off findin’ outlaws the law can’t and then turnin’ ‘em in fer the reward.” “He’s got a room on the third floor. A suite. It costs a hundred dollars a night. How can any man afford that?” “Because, it says right here, that Mr. Andrew Turnbull is offering a two-hundred-dollar reward for your capture.” “Quit saying that. I didn’t kill anyone.” “I don’t think you did, but the law does. With such a bountiful reward on yer head, Slate is not 96

Winter Love gonna stop ‘til he tracks you down. Just ‘cuz you were sleepin’ with him don’t matter. A man like that, he could love you to pieces and still turn you in for a fifty-cent reward. Money means ever’thin’ to him.” “Who doesn’t money mean everything to?” Gloria said bitterly. She could hardly believe Andrew offering such a gigantic sum as a reward. Then pieces fit together. She had married Abraham and was his wife when he died. Before Andrew could inherit his father’s fortune, she had to be tried and convicted. Nothing less than public acknowledgment of her crime would allow the estate to be passed along without any strings. Abraham had not changed his will to name her as his beneficiary but as long as she was alive— free—Andrew might not be able to claim it all for himself. “Don’t mean squat to me, not if I can help a pretty woman like you,” Carter said. “That’s sweet, Thomas, but you can’t help me out of this predicament.” “You kill him? This Abraham Turnbull? Like the newspaper said?” “No,” she said, then started to explain. He cut her off. “That’s good enough fer me,” the miner said. “You git yer belongin’s and we kin hightail it into the mountains. I know ‘em pretty good, even if Slate is reputed to be the best damn tracker in the 97

Aurora Jamison West.” “He doesn’t know. You’re making him out to be some kind of supernatural being. I fooled him.” Gloria said the words but was not sure she really had pulled the wool over his eyes. From all Slate had said to her, he had scoured Manitou Springs asking after new arrivals. Even if there were other women who fit her description, it would not be hard to find how long they had lived in this pleasant valley. “He’s a devil with a smile,” Thomas told her solemnly. “He’s like a cat playin’ with a mouse. If you think he’s figgered out who you are, then he has. He’ll take his pleasure with you, then collect his reward.” “Oh, he’s done that already,” Gloria said, heartsick. She remembered how she had felt when she had inadvertently gone into his room and seen him standing there bold as brass, naked and sporting a hard-on. It had been frightening for her and a dream come true, all rolled into one. Making love with him was what she had done. Gloria was now sure he was only fucking her. If Thomas Carter was right, the bounty hunter had fucked her and was still toying with her. “Come with me. We kin git lost in the mountains. I don’t know how, considerin’ his skills, but I’m willin’ to do it. For you.” Gloria blinked at him. “I can’t put you in such danger,” she said. “If 98

Winter Love Slate is as evil as you say, then he—” The door opened behind her and Clivedon bellowed, “There you are. Get inside right away.” Gloria looked to Thomas for support, but the miner had disappeared like a puff of smoke on a summer breeze. All that remained were two deep footprints in the snow. The cold snow, the cold, cold snow that seeped in around her heart now. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I felt faint and—” “Forget the excuses for your bone-idle behavior. There is the weekly cotillion this evening. It starts in only a few minutes, and there is scant time.” “You want me to serve?” Gloria’s mouth went dry. That meant Slate would know exactly where to find her. “I would, except there is something foolish going on.” He held the door for her. She pressed past him and went into the kitchen. “There,” he said, pointing. “Get out of that dress right away.” “Wh-what?” Gloria did feel faint now. She had heard how Clivedon treated the rest of the women on the Hotel Parisian staff. Was it better having Clivedon fuck her or Slate? “The dress, the dress. Get out of it and into the gown. It’s hanging in the pantry. Hurry, hurry. And do something about that hair or yours. It is worse than a bird’s nest.” “Gown?” “Someone sent a gown and insisted that you 99

Aurora Jamison wear it to the cotillion.” “Someone?” “A guest,” Clivedon said, exasperated. “There, the music is beginning. You’ll miss the first dance. Do not miss the second.” He glared at her, his foot tapping on the floor. In a daze, Gloria went into the pantry and saw the ball gown. Her wedding gown had been lovely, but this made it appear to be a frowsy little rag. She touched its fine satin and ran her fingers over the lace. The light blue almost matched her eyes. She turned to call to the hotel manager that there had to be some mistake, then she saw the note pinned to the bodice. She touched her own breast and then reached out to pluck free the note. For Miss Peak. Her presence this evening is requested. Gloria almost fainted. The dress—and the command that she attend the cotillion ball—came from Henry Slate. He was the only one she had given this name to. Clivedon and Mrs. Underwood had not cared enough to even inquire as to her name, and she had only introduced herself as “Gloria” to the others in the kitchen. Playing with me, like a cat plays with a mouse, came unbidden to her mind. That’s what Thomas Carter had said. Gloria edged away from the gown and opened the pantry door to see Clivedon standing in the kitchen, increasingly impatient. Getting away from the hotel meant she had to 100

Winter Love decoy him away. Even as wild plans formed, she heard him rap insistently on the pantry door. “Hurry up, hurry. I will drag you out, dressed or not. Now, come out now!” “I’m just dressing, Clivedon,” she said. Gloria looked around but saw nowhere to escape. The pantry lacked windows, and the only way out was past the hotel manager. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she dropped her dress to the floor and began working her way into the elaborate finery Slate had sent to her. “Too long,” Clivedon declared, barging in. “I’ll get you cinched up.” Gloria started to protest, then realized the elaborate gown required a dresser to assist her. She gave in to his demand and let him expertly tie and twist, pull and tug until she was dressed in the pale blue gown that drifted about her like some sugary confection rather than mere clothing. “Your hair is still a fright, but perhaps it will go unnoticed,” Clivedon said, looking as if he had bitten into a sour persimmon. “Come along now.” He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him as he might a small, disobedient child. Gloria followed. She had no other option. As they made their way to the lobby and toward the ballroom on the far side of the hotel where music from a small orchestra welled out of open doors, a dozen plans for escape brewed in her thoughts. There would be confusion during 101

Aurora Jamison the dancing. She could slip away. Clivedon would abandon her at the first sign of trouble with the service or food or band. He was a perfectionist, and that would play into her hand. All she had to do was avoid Henry Slate and— “Good evening, Miss Peak. I worried that you were not coming.” Slate stood before her, decked out in a fancy set of tails. His cravat sported the huge diamond and his boots were shined to such perfection Gloria wondered if the man used them as a mirror to shave. His beard was razored down to a blue haze on his firm chin, but his eyes held her in complete captivity. It was as if he enjoyed a joke that she did not share. “I must tend to the waiters,” Clivedon said, bowing slightly and backing away. “Enjoy the dance, Mr. Slate.” The glare he lavished on Gloria told her he saw no reason for any hotel guest to demand her presence. “Do you like the dress? I had to guess at the size.” “It’s lovely,” Gloria said. “You shouldn’t have.” “One last fling,” he said, “is all I ask before returning to Denver.” “Oh?” Gloria had no idea how to respond. He took her arm firmly and led her to the dance floor. “Yes,” he said, “my business in Manitou Springs is concluded.” “You have found what you sought?” “Ah, yes, yes, I have. Do you dance, Miss 102

Winter Love Morrison? Or should I call you Mrs. Turnbull?” Gloria tried to pull away, but his strong arm circled her waist. His other hand crushed her fingers until she winced. “I should have relied on my instincts. The instant I set eyes on you, I knew you were the reason for being here. Somehow, I let you gull me into thinking you had worked here for some time rather than just arriving.” “We all believe what we want, Mr. Slate.” “I believe I’ll enjoy this evening dancing with you, then a night with you in my bed, then we shall return to Denver where I will collect the reward.” “Won’t the night’s be reward enough?” Gloria was desperate now. As they danced, Slate gliding smoothly, she missing step after step as if she had one foot in a milk bucket. She vainly sought some way to escape. “You flatter yourself, Gloria,” he said. “Yes, I shall call you Gloria, since that does away with the confusion as to your name and marital status.” “Andrew must believe I legally wed his father or he would never have sent you,” she said. “True,” Slate said agreeably. “The doings of lawyers are a mystery to me. What isn’t so mysterious is that I can make a fine living off returning men—and lovely women—to custody.” A sudden crash echoed through the room, disturbing the band. At the same instant, Gloria 103

Aurora Jamison stumbled as Slate lost his footing. She looked down and saw he had slipped in a giant flood of punch from a broken bowl on a nearby table. The waiters all bustled about, two of them trying to help Slate get to his feet and only causing him to stumble and fall again. Stunned by the abruptness, Gloria stood and stared until a firm hand took her elbow and guided her away. “If you stick around, he’ll catch you for certain sure.” “Mr. Carter!” Gloria’s eyes went wide when she saw him. If she had not recognized his voice, she would never have recognized the miner. He was dressed in an elegant tuxedo with a frilly shirt. All trace of dirt had been scrubbed from his face, and his hair was combed and slicked back. “Don’t dawdle. He’ll be up in an instant. I only paid the waiters a few dollars, so they won’t risk his ire much longer.” “You paid them?” “To throw the punch on the floor so he would slip,” Thomas said, grinning. “I reckoned he might need some help, so I paid ‘em to do that, too.” “Help him stay down, you mean,” Gloria said. “Why are you doing this?” She yelped when his arm went around her waist and bodily lifted her with ease to swing around a corner. He set her down lightly on her feet and pointed up the stairs. 104

Winter Love “We should get out of the hotel,” Gloria said. “In these duds? It’s winter outside. We need heavy coats. Git on up to the second floor. I got a room there.” “You do?” Again Gloria was startled at the man’s strength as he lifted and bodily carried her up the stairs. She fought to get her feet down on solid flooring, but he did not allow it until they reached the landing on the second floor. “In there,” he said, shoving her toward a room with an open door. Gloria ducked inside, her heart hammering. Seconds later, Thomas Carter closed and locked the door. “Don’t figure he’ll find us here, though he’ll be madder ‘n a wet hen.” Gloria stared at the man with newfound admiration “You saved me,” she said in a choked voice. “Looked to me you needed a bit of rescuin’,” Carter said, grinning widely. “Gettin’ out of the hotel’s gonna be a chore, though. A man like Slate’s not gonna dry up and blow away.” “You were right. He was playing with me. He sent me this dress and intended to...” Her voice trailed off. What Slate had intended doing all night long was no different from what they had done earlier in the day. With one difference—this time she would not have gone willingly to his bed. 105

Aurora Jamison “To turn you in for the reward,” Thomas Carter said hastily. From his expression, she saw that he was putting a spoonful of sugar onto a bitter truth. “We’re safe here?” she asked. “For a spell,” he said. “I’m safe with you,” Gloria said, staring at the man. “Might be not so safe,” Thomas Carter said, walking slowly to her. “Might be, you’re not so safe with me,” Gloria said. She stepped forward into the circle of the man’s arms. Did he kiss her or did she kiss him? It didn’t matter as their lips met and crushed together.

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Chapter Nine

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loria rolled over in the soft bed, then panicked as she came completely awake. She sat up, tears running down her cheeks. Looking around, she realized she was not in Slate’s room but another. Looking across the room to where Thomas Carter slumped in a fancy high-backed chair near the fireplace, Gloria remembered everything in a flash. Thomas had spirited her away from Slate and brought her here, to this fine room. It hardly mattered that he had slept in the clothes. The miner still looked out of place in them. A smile came to Gloria’s lips. She would always remember him the way she had first seen him in the mineral water spa, decked out in filthy miner’s pants and checkered flannel shirt. She dabbed at the tears and let the covers drop. She was still in her fine ball gown, although it was worse for the night since she, too, had slept in her clothes. Gloria tried to piece everything together. 107

Aurora Jamison Her fingers drifted to her lips and brushed across them. This sparked new memories of how she and Thomas had kissed. It had been as if an electric current had passed between them. An erotic telegraph had sent messages in both directions that were clear and demanding. Yet… Yet he had not taken advantage of her. Gloria slumped in the bed, wondering why. She had wanted him. He had deserved anything she could offer in return for saving her from him Slate, and yet he had not availed himself of her willingness. Gloria swung her bare feet over and stood on the cold floor. She shivered. The fire had died down to embers. She went closer, found the poker and stirred the logs to a bigger flame. Thomas’ eyes shot open, and he stared up at her from the chair. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” “Only had my eyes closed to rest ‘em,” he said. He rubbed at them with both fists as if mining for nuggets, then sat up. “Hadn’t intended to fall asleep like that. Wanted to keep watch.” “Don’t you always fall asleep after you and a woman make...” Gloria let the sentence trail off to see his reaction. He looked panicked. “What?” she teased. “You don’t remember last night?” “You? Me, we made—” 108

Winter Love “Quite an escape from a bounty hunter,” she finished, then laughed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Carter. I didn’t mean to poke fun at you.” “Then we didn’t, well, you know?” He looked toward the crumpled bed where obviously only one person had slept the night before. “Are you relieved that you didn’t have carnal knowledge of me?” “No! I mean, it wouldn’t have been right, takin’ advantage of you like that.” “Not even if I wanted you to take advantage?” Gloria stared at him, wondering what thoughts ran through his mind. He was confused. She could almost believe this rough-hewn miner was gentleman enough to do nothing more than let her sleep alone. “You wanted it? Me? To—” Her smile faded as she looked down to his crotch. His fancy dress pants tented up. She licked her lips and realized she had not been teasing him as much as asking a real question. “I did,” she said. “I do.” Gloria went to him and dropped to her knees in front of him. Thomas pushed his knees together and looked uncomfortable, but Gloria ran her hands along the insides of his knees and pushed them back apart. The evidence of his erection was undeniable. “I wanted you then, but it wouldn’t have been right,” he said. “It’s right now,” she said. 109

Aurora Jamison “I don’t want you doin’ nuthin’ jist cuz you think you owe me. You don’t owe me nuthin’ fer doin’ the right thing. Gettin’ away from Henry Slate is not a favor, it’s a duty.” “You talk too much,” she said, sliding closer to him. His legs were spread wide as she worked to a point where she pressed against the chair and gazed up into his eyes. Gloria saw he was still struggling with the rightness of this. Then he decided when she half-closed her eyes and tipped her head back, lips parted and beckoning. She began to melt as his kiss deepened. His hands stroked along the sides of her head and then through her hair, mussing it beyond repair. She did not care. She had found an unexpected ally—or was it more? Her emotions were all tangled up, and then she was swept past trying to think through anything. Thomas bent down and half rose from the chair, forcing her backward. He carried her on down to the floor onto the rug stretched in front of the fireplace. Flames warming her from the outside, but she wanted something to warm her from the inside. She reached down and ran her hand under the waistband of the fancy pants. She quickly found the hot hardness she sought. Thomas let out a gasp as she squeezed down on his cock. “That’s mighty fine,” he said, “but be careful how you jerk it around. You excite me so much I 110

Winter Love feel like a young buck out for the first time.” “Am I your first?” she asked. “You’ll always be my first,” he said, “love.” It was her turn to gasp. He slipped his hands under the voluminous skirts and ran his hands up the outsides of her legs, then slid around and parted them even more. He knelt between her legs. She fumbled and got the last of the buttons free on his fly. Her eyes went wide at the sight of his boner. He was not long, not like Slate, but he was thick. Then all conscious thought fled. His hands pressed into her pussy mound and began stroking the length of her sex lips. He caught one tender pink flap between thumb and forefinger and squeezed down lightly. Lighting blasted through Gloria’s loins. But he was not content to let her bask in the warm glow this caused. His middle finger dipped into her gushing well and ran around, getting well lubricated. He withdrew and pressed his greased finger into the tiny spire of her clit. This caused her to lift her hips off the rug and begin rolling about. “More, Thomas, more. I want more of you inside me than a single finger.” “You want two fingers?” “No, no,” she moaned out. He was toying with her now. Getting back at her for her earlier teasing. Before she could tell him exactly what she 111

Aurora Jamison wanted, he gave it to her. His hands slipped under her ass cheeks and lifted. She felt the thick knob atop his cock press into her pussy lips for the briefest instant before plunging inward. One instant she was needy. The next she was filled to overflowing with his precious cock. Pulling upward, he brought her crotch powerfully to his. Buried balls deep within, he started a slow rotary motion that drove her wild with lust. He spread her most delicate tissues in new and wondrous directions. She had been right. He was not long but he was thick and this proved more exciting than she would have thought. She clung to his arms, half pulling herself upward. As she moved, she found this worked against her. She wanted to be as close to him as possible, to melt with him into one being. Gloria sank back to the rug and lifted herself up, affording him a better entry. He drilled deeper within her and maintained the circular motion. Her pussy lips were stimulated but so was her clit. It was if someone had poured kerosene all over her and Thomas was the match igniting it. As he swung around in a slow clockwise motion, she went the opposite direction and doubled their enjoyment. Then all volition fled, and she abandoned herself to the man entirely. Her head spun and her body burned, yearned, churned about as he began fucking her with slow, 112

Winter Love deliberate strokes. She turned her face to the fire and felt the heat. But the real heat came from between her legs, all the length of her pussy. “Oh, yes, oh, oh!” Her cries spurred him on to fuck even faster. She was pinned down and more aroused than she had ever been. Ethan had been her first, and she thought he was the best. Slate had shown her how wrong she had been thinking Ethan knew the first thing about fucking. But with Thomas it was entirely different. She felt a connection that went far beyond the physical. But she was not denying that! She cried out in climax as he pumped furiously, burning her flesh with the erotic heat of cock pressing intimately against pussy walls. She heard him grunt and then moan softly before he slowed his intense fucking. Reaching up, she took him in her arms as he sank down atop her. They lay there, listening to one another’s harsh breathing settle down and hard-beating hearts slow to a respectable pace. Only then did he speak. “You got ‘em all beat hollow,” he said. “All? All? You mean there are others? I might have known it,” she said, only half joking. She felt a little uneasy at his words, and she did not want to. She wanted him for her own. All hers. No sharing. 113

Aurora Jamison “I mean the ones before. You aren’t the first, but...” His words trailed away. “But what, Thomas?” “But I’d sure like to make you the last. For now and all time.” Gloria did not know what to say. Her mind tumbled about like a circus troupe but unlike those gymnasts, she did not come out in a steady pile or neat line. “I don’t know what to say.” “Reckon it is a bit sudden, but the minute I laid eyes on you—” “You wanted to lay me,” she finished for him. “I wasn’t wearing any clothes then.” “The mineral bath,” he said. “That’s not what I meant. I wanted to say I saw you and knew. Jist knew.” “Love at first sight,” she said, sighing deeply. She had believed in that with Ethan. Everything that had happened to her afterward destroyed that notion. Almost everything. She clung to Thomas as he tried to slip away. “No, please, lie with me. Just a few minutes more. This is so nice. I like the way you feel, pressing into me. I like your smell.” “Took a bath. That’s violet-smelling toilet water they had in the bath. I used that.” “No, not that,” Gloria said. “I like the way you smell. The manliness.” 114

Winter Love This brought a chuckle. “I told them that toilet water wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans.” “I’d like you even if you smelled like that old hill of beans,” she said. To her surprise, she meant it. Gloria realized that she had reacted to him much the way Thomas had upon seeing her for the first time. Something about him, all fumbling for words and vulnerable and strong at the same time tore at her heartstrings. “We got to get out of here,” he said. “Wait, don’t,” she said, when he tried to leave. “For a while longer. Please.” He settled back but she felt how tense he was now. “He won’t stop ‘til he finds you. Slate is a bulldog. Once he clamps his teeth in, he don’t let go.” “We can stay here,” she said. Then it occurred to her that Thomas was probably a squatter in this fine room. It must have been empty, and he just moved in. “Wait, don’t say it,” she rushed on. “I know we can’t stay here too long before they find us and throw us out. Slate would surely see me then.” “Us,” Thomas said firmly. “We’re in this together.” “Where did you get that dinner jacket?” “They have a whole room full of ‘em downstairs. It wasn’t hard findin’ one.” “I see,” Gloria said. He had sneaked in and 115

Aurora Jamison taken one off the hotel’s rack. “You put that on just to save me from Slate?” “Don’t figger you got many friends in these parts.” “I don’t have any friends at all,” she said. “You kill him? Like Slate says?” Gloria found herself pouring out her entire story to him. Thomas Carter said nothing until she had run down, exhausted and finally out of words and emotion. She had not realized how much she was holding back or how good it was to let it all flow out like a huge river. Best of all was telling someone who cared. “Sounds like an accident. He was an old man,” Thomas said when she had finished. “There’s no way the law can hold you responsible. Why, he might have kicked off just climbin’ the stairs.” He looked at her, his face only inches from hers. “Then again, it could be called your fault.” “I know,” she said miserably. Even Thomas agreed that she had murdered Abraham Turnbull. “You’re purty enough to give any man a heart attack.” “Why thank you,” she said, realizing this was another of his backward compliments. “You’re sure woman enough to kill a man what with the way you, uh, make love,” he finished lamely. “You mean the way I fuck?” “I said what I meant. Don’t go talkin’ like some 116

Winter Love mountain man.” Again Gloria was touched at the way he tried to protect her, even from crude words. She sank back and lay on the rug, staring at the fancy plastered ceiling with its curlicue decorations. She wished she and Thomas could lie here forever, but he was right. They had to do something to get away from Slate. She had to. As if reading her mind, Thomas said, “He’ll search every room. Even if that manager tells him he can’t, Slate’ll do it. At gunpoint, if he has to. He’s a killer.” “Has he killed men?” “More ‘n a dozen, if rumors are right. I think they are. Might even be more than that since he’s meaner ‘n a grizzly bear and touchier ‘n a rotted tooth.” Gloria remembered how she had shared Slate’s bed, willingly at first and then with trepidation. Her choice of men had been so bad. “I got some clothes fer you in the wardrobe,” Thomas said, getting to his feet. He opened the double doors and showed her some plain, heavy clothing suitable for outdoors. The miner had even remembered to get boots to go along with the heavy wool coat. “Then we can leave right away,” she said. “I need to get provisions. There’s nuthin’ to scavenge out there, not in the middle of a bad 117

Aurora Jamison winter like this one. Whatever food we eat’ll be what we take with us.” “That sounds risky,” she said. “Unless Slate doesn’t know you helped me get away last night.” “He don’t. There’s no way he could. He wasn’t takin’ his eyes off you—and who kin blame him for that? He never saw me bribe them waiters to spill the punch or ‘help’ him once he fell.” Gloria thought fast as she stared at the clothing hanging in the wardrobe. “Go fetch us supplies. What do you recommend? You’re the one with experience tromping around in the snow.” “Don’t have to worry ‘bout anything we carry spoilin’, but no airtights. Canned goods like that are too heavy to carry through the snow.” “Should we head toward Colorado Springs? We can catch the train there and—” “Nope, no way. The law’d be waitin’ fer somethin’ like that. It’s west or no way. We kin cross the mountains and come out on the western slopes in a few days of hikin’.” “You’re right,” she said. “Go get us the supplies we’ll need, and I’ll change. You’re so thoughtful,” she said, running her hand over the heavy wool coat. “You’re so beautiful,” Thomas replied, looking as if he might blush. He was obviously unaccustomed to giving compliments and even more obviously wanting to learn. She gave him a 118

Winter Love quick kiss. “Go on. You’re right about how Slate will be searching the hotel room by room.” “Won’t be long,” Thomas said. He paused at the door, graced her with a broad smile and then ducked out into the hall. Gloria returned his smile but it faded fast. She shucked off the lovely ball gown and quickly dressed. Before Thomas Carter returned, she was gone.

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Chapter Ten

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tealing food was something she had done before, back in Denver when her pa had gone on a bender and taken all the money she had earned. Gloria did not like doing it but had no choice. She might have sweet-talked someone out of enough to get by but could not take the chance of them mentioning her to Henry Slate. If everything Thomas said about the bounty hunter was true, he would threaten or even shoot every last citizen of Manitou Springs to find her. Thomas, she thought. How will you ever forgive me? I hope you will understand why I had to leave like I did. If she had waited for him to return, Slate would have come after them both. She could not put the miner’s life at risk like that after all he had done for her. Let Slate chase her to the ends of the Earth, but there was no reason to endanger Thomas. She believed him when he claimed that Slate didn’t know who had bribed the waiters to throw the punch onto the dance floor. 120

Winter Love Will Slate beat it out of the waiters to find who paid them? The man was capable of anything. If he suspected his fall was anything but an accident, he might do just that. Then Thomas was in grave danger. Gloria slung the bag holding the pitiful little food she had been able to scrounge over her shoulder, looked up at the majestic Pike’s Peak, and knew she had no time to waste. Billowing clouds whirled like smoke around the summit. The swift winds whipped them around and the underside of those clouds turned an ugly leaden gray, signaling the birthing of a new storm. She had to put as many miles between her and Manitou Springs as she could before a new blizzard dropped freezing inches of snow. Gloria hurried along, trudging along cleared trails and quickly getting to the westernmost part of town before having to wade through knee-high snowbanks. She left quite a trail. A blind man could follow her. From all she had heard, Slate was anything but a blind man, but even an Indian scout could not track her if enough snow fell. Heavy blankets would fill her footprints in the snow and obscure the countryside for miles, hiding her from even a man with field glasses. That she had no idea where she went added to the confusion of any tracker. Someone familiar with the mountainous region would have a goal in mind and go straight for it. She might meander 121

Aurora Jamison about, but Slate would go past her in his determination to catch her. Gloria wondered if she might not troop along for a spell, then find a cave to hole up in. All it took was a quick glance at her back trail to know this would not work. Legs burning from the effort it took to keep walking, she wished Thomas had chosen a better size for her boots. They were too large and chafed as she walked. Stuffing newspaper into them helped a little, but she wished she had put on extra pairs of stockings instead. Not only would that have filled the voluminous boots, it would have kept her feet from getting cold so fast. The wind began picking up. The razor edged gusts from higher on the slopes told her the storm had built faster than she expected. Ahead in the canyon where she walked tiny white snowflakes danced. That dance turned crazy within minutes as the falling snow wrapped her in its icy embrace. Good, she thought, pulling up a scarf to cover her mouth and nose against the gathering storm. Let that son of a bitch track me in this storm. Resisting the impulse to walk faster, she maintained her steady gait to keep from tiring herself too quickly. Gloria had no way of telling how long she had been on the trail but from the look of the sky, what she could see of it, she had walked for nearly three hours. As she trudged along, she thought of waking in 122

Winter Love Thomas’ room—or the one he had used. It had been frightening at first, thinking she was in Slate’s bed. The more she thought back now, the more it had seemed right to her looking over at Thomas asleep in the chair, standing guard and protecting her. He wasn’t the handsomest man she had ever seen, but there was a strength to him that appealed to her. Love at first sight, ran through her mind. She had to scoff at that. For Thomas Carter, maybe, that could happen. By all accounts, mining was a solitary profession. He spent all his time underground hacking away at the rock to find a few flakes of gold to sell so he could do the same job the next day. Any woman would set his heart to beating. That he had come upon her while she was bathing in the hot springs only added to his lustful thoughts. Then why did she feel so strongly about him? It was understandable that he had fallen for her to the point of foolishly risking his life to defy a dangerous bounty hunter, but she would do the same for him. She had. She had bolted from the room the instant she could so he would not come with her and be in danger from Slate. The wind blew harder, forcing her to turn up her collar and put her head down against the cold. The snowflakes that had touched her skin and melted earlier now stuck and froze. The 123

Aurora Jamison temperature dropped rapidly enough so that she could feel it, even through the heavy layers of clothing. It was time to find a place to go to ground. She had to gather firewood and build a fire. But not outside. In a cave. Her mind began to tumble and roil with extraneous thoughts, and she knew it was the cold working on her. Maybe frostbite was setting in. She had been lucky walking from the train into Manitou Springs that she had not lost a few toes and maybe her nose. She laughed at that. She had seen men in Denver wearing store-bought silver noses because they had been caught in a fierce storm. How good would she look with a silver nose tied on like some scarecrow? Would Thomas still declare his love for her if her nose fell off? She did not want to know. As she stumbled along, heading toward the rising canyon wall to her right, Gloria picked up fallen limbs and smaller dried twigs. By the time she reached the sheer rock face she was stumbling along under a considerable burden of wood. This close to the rock face proved colder than out in the direct wind. The cliff itself sucked the heat directly from her body. She kept walking for what seemed an eternity until she found a shallow cave. Knowing there might be animals inside sheltering themselves from this storm, she called out. It startled her when she realized all she did 124

Winter Love was gasp out a wordless sound. Her lips were half frozen, and her voice failed her. Going into the cave immediately shielded her from the wind. Outside, the white curtain of snow became denser. To be out in it now meant death. Gloria stacked rocks around in a circle to make a crude fire pit, then laid the wood to start a fire to keep her warm. Her hands were numbed, but she persevered. Then she realized she didn’t have any matches. Making a fire bow and starting a warming blaze was beyond her ability. I can do that in a few minutes. Maybe strike steel against a stone. If I have anything that’s steel. Her thoughts drifted like the snow building up at the mouth of the cave. She huddled down, arms around her legs and head resting on her knees. So quiet, so peaceful. Rest for a minute. She slipped off into a light sleep filled with wonderful dreams. Gentle hands began opening her coat. She muttered and heard an answering whisper as soft as the wind. She lay back and felt coldness on her nipples. Then came warmth as lips closed on them. She reached out clumsily but found nothing. The mouth moved between her breasts and down lower until she sighed with contentment. The mouth fixed on her pussy mound before a tongue slid into her center and began waggling about. Her hips rose off the cold stone floor. When they sank back down, she felt her coat beneath her. 125

Aurora Jamison Hands moved again. This was such a wonderful dream she hated to wake up from it. She stirred and tried to open her eyes. For a moment panic set in when she couldn’t. Then came the distant voice telling her all was well. She relaxed and felt the mouth moving over her most sensitive flesh. The tongue slithered up one of her sex lips and down the other. The intrusion of lips and tongue in an erotic kiss on her pussy caused her to breathe faster. “Warm,” came the voice. “I want you to warm up.” “Oh, yes, yes,” she said. Again she reached out but no one was there. This is such a nice dream, she thought. The feel of the tongue fucking in and out of her sent tremors throughout her loins. Then those delightful hands worked under her and turned her over onto her belly. She felt weight crushing her down. Her firm ass cheeks were pinned beneath weight, but something more! “Your cock,” she cried out. “I want it!” “It’s yours.” And it was. No sooner had she asked than it was given. The hot, hard length pushed between the thickness of her cheeks and briefly touched the ring of her anus. She tensed. This was not the way it was supposed to be. Then she relaxed and let new excitement fill her. Hands lifted her hips off 126

Winter Love the stone floor, just a little. Just enough. Just so the hot cock could enter her from behind. She gasped as it plunged into and began moving with tormentingly slow strokes. “More,” she called out. “I want it all now.” Her dreams were honed to perfection. She asked and she received. The cock began sliding in and out of her with increasingly speed. The warmth from the friction spread like melted butter throughout her belly and worked upward. Before she could complain that her breasts were pressed into coldness, the hands moved under her, stroking and pressing into delightful spots. Then both hands firmly pressed into her breasts, caught at her nips and began kneading as if they were two doughy blobs. The fire from the swiftly moving cock within her heated center joined that from her breasts. She gasped and bucked upward to receive more. Such a dream! she thought. Never before had she experienced a dream of such duration or vividness. She liked it. More than anything else she had ever experienced. A hand left one breast and locked around her waist, lifting her again, but this hand slipped downward to her pussy and stroked over her aroused lips. The feel of the hand along with the cock moving inside—and the other hand crushing her left breast—pushed her to the breaking point. How long she hung on the brink of orgasm she 127

Aurora Jamison did not know. Every moment was a delight. Every touch and thrust added to the warmth within her and edged her closer to the brink. “Come, my love. Come for me,” the voice whispered intimately. “Oh, yes, yes,” she moaned. The climax roared through her like the storm winds outside the cave. She thrashed about but was held firmly and then, sensation fading, she sank back down to the cave floor. The weight remained on top of her as her coat was pulled up all around. She slept, but during the night she awoke and reached out. She touched warmth that stirred and came to her again. This time, lying on her side, she felt the heat slip into her pussy and begin fucking again. She cried out but knew her pleasure was muted by the storm raging. Gloria drifted away to sleep once again. When she awoke she had to turn her face away. Heat boiled at her and smoke threatened to choke her. “You’re awake.” “What?” She was still drowsy but realized it was not the wind that spoke. Gloria forced her eyes open. They teared up from the smoke, but nearby she saw Thomas Carter holding out his hands to the flames, keeping them warm. She looked down and saw she was naked. “What happened?” “You ran off, that’s what happened,” he said in an accusing tone. “I had to follow yer trail. Not 128

Winter Love that it was hard ‘til the snowstorm hit. Then I had to go by instinct. Good thing I got lots of that.” “You took off my clothes.” She looked up from her own nakedness and saw he was similarly undressed. He had a heavy coat slung around his shoulders. Otherwise he was buck naked. “Bit of a chore, it was,” Thomas said. “You was half frozen and goin’ to sleep. Couldn’t allow that or you’d’ve up and died on me.” Her hand slid down her belly to her pussy mound. She looked up at him. He was grinning ear to ear. “Best way to keep from freezin’ to death is to have a reason to live.” “You fucked me while I was unconscious?” “Can’t say you was unconscious, not from the way you were thrashing about, moanin’ and beggin’ me to keep goin’.” “I remember that,” Gloria said. The feel of his mouth on her pussy, his hand, the way he had entered her and begun to revive her. It all came back to her in a rush. “Reckon I saved you.” “I never heard of being saved like that,” she said. “You didn’t git a fire started. I did that. The best way for two folks to stay warm, even with a fire, is to press bare skin together.” “You did more than press your flesh against mine.” 129

Aurora Jamison “Pressed it into you,” he said, his smile broadening even more. Then he sobered. “You coulda died. You don’t have any notion a’tall how to survive in these mountains, much less during a storm.” “I can use some lessons,” Gloria admitted. “How was it that you kept me warm again?” “Why, I—” “Don’t tell me, Thomas, show me. Again.” He pulled his coat up over his shoulders and went to her. It took longer this time, but Gloria felt even warmer. And it was not from the fire blazing away at the mouth of the cave.

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Chapter Eleven

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loria pressed herself backward into the circle of Thomas’ arms as they stared out into the dancing whiteness of the storm. “Will it ever stop?” she asked. “Reckon so. Spring’s not more ‘n two months off.” “Two months!” She looked back over her shoulder and saw he was joshing her. “You!” Turning, she put her arms around him under his coat and stood there, enjoying his warmth as she pressed her cheek into his chest. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, after all.” “Slate won’t wait that long. Soon as the storm dies down, you can bet your bottom dollar he’s gonna be after us.” “After me,” she corrected. “You can stay. I’ll try to get away from him. There’s no need for you to get on his bad side.” “That skunk don’t have a good side. Besides, you wouldn’t last an hour out there.” 131

Aurora Jamison “I will,” she insisted. “Didn’t before. Why will you do better this time? You don’t even know where you were goin’.” Gloria had no answer to that. Her notion of heading any which way to confuse Slate had not worked out too well. If Thomas hadn’t again rescued her, she would be a frozen lump right now. Try as she might, she could not make a scheme that would keep him safe from the bounty hunter and allow her to get away, too. “What should we do?” “The wind’s not blowin’ so hard,” Thomas said. “When it dies down, it won’t feel quite so cold. We head out and keep followin’ this canyon ‘til we reach the branch goin’ southwest.” “Then?” “I want to get to my gold mine over in Cripple Creek. We can hide out there.” “Your gold mine,” she said, letting the words roll over her tongue. They had a nice sound to them, but she knew that most mines were nothing but worthless holes in the ground. Miners killed themselves for only a few flakes of “color.” “It’s out of the way, to the north of town. Nobody’s likely to see you since nobody comes out much. If they did and Slate got to ‘em, he’d be on us in a flash.” “He won’t go away, will he?” “Don’t know how long he will hunt for you, but 132

Winter Love it won’t be forever. He’s spendin’ a whale of a lot of money, thinkin’ he had you all wrapped up with a nice ribbon. He can’t keep spendin’ like he did at the Hotel Parisian ‘cuz he don’t have that kind of money.” “He looked mighty rich to me,” she said. Thomas shook his head. “He lives high on the hog, but he has to make a lot of money fast or creditors even meaner ‘n him will come after him. If he can’t see through catchin’ you, he’ll go after easier pickin’s.” “That’s all I am to him? Easy pickings?” “You mean a lot more than that to me,” he said simply. She hugged him closer, but he stirred and finally pulled her free. “We got to git on the trail.” “Still seems windy to me.” “How’s that? There’s hardly a breath of air stirrin’ out there now.” “It’s about to blow in here,” she said, dropping to her knees in front of him and working at his fly. “There’re things blowing and big, strong men getting a blow job.” She fished out his cock and crammed the limpness into her mouth. Sucking, gently gnawing and licking changed that quickly into a thick, hard cock. Only after she had tasted his salty cum did she tuck him back in and stand. “Time to go?” he asked, sounding a bit despondent. 133

Aurora Jamison “Time to go,” she agreed. “Until we get to your gold mine, then it’ll be time to cum again.” It made her feel good knowing she had pleased him. It was small enough reward for a man who had saved her life more than once. He grinned and gave her a kiss, then picked up what little they had left in way of supplies. They had been snowed into the cave for three days and had eaten most all the food they had both brought. It took Thomas a few minutes to thrash through the icy crust boxing them into the cave, then they started out across an unsullied landscape, sinking knee deep in the snow as they walked. “He can track us if we leave a trail like this,” Gloria said, worrying anew about Slate. “He’s got a horse. The horse can’t get through these drifts for another few days. No way is a dude like him gonna walk.” “How’d you get to Manitou Springs?” The question popped out of Gloria’s mouth. “Rode. Left my horse there, knowin’ this snow would slow us up.” “You left a horse? But the horse is valuable.” “They kin feed the old nag ‘til I fetch her.” Such extravagance startled Gloria. Horses were a matter of life and death for most men in the West. Maybe not for a miner, but Thomas owning one meant he had some spare money. “What do you do with the horse? Use it to ride into Cripple Creek?” 134

Winter Love “Pulls a wagon sometimes,” he said. “I need to git supplies ‘bout once a month. Other times, I jist ride around and take in the countryside.” Thomas paused, then grinned. “Wouldn’t mind it much if you rode with me, sittin’ behind with yer arms ‘round my waist.” As they plowed through the snow, they talked of what they would do once they reached Thomas’ gold mine. It kept Gloria’s mind off how cold and tired she was becoming by the end of the day and gave her a better picture of how Thomas thought. At heart, he may have been a hard rock miner but that heart was both gold and soft. She heard it in the way he talked about the sunsets and animals and other miners he had known. “What’s the name?” Gloria asked as they trudged up a steep, narrow trail seemingly glued to the rocky cliff face to reach the rim of the canyon they had followed all day long. “The mine? The Cindy Mae.” “Your wife’s?” Gloria caught her breath. “My first mule.” She let out her pent up breath, causing twin plumes of condensation to gust outward. It was all she could do to keep from laughing. “Your mule?” “A fella’s allowed to get attached to his mule. That there animal walked beside me for more ‘n a year till I found my strike. The day I filed with the land agent was the day poor ole Cindy Mae up 135

Aurora Jamison and died. Least I could do was name the mine after the poor beast.” By the time Thomas finished with his story, they reached the top of the ridge. Gloria could not take another step. Bent over, gasping for breath, she turned and looked back where they had been. The canyon wall was close to five hundred feet tall. “That’s mighty amazing, how we got up the side of the canyon.” Her gaze rose from the trail they had followed and went to the spot where the canyon took a turn. A solitary rider dressed in black made his way, following their tracks. “Thomas!” “Yup, I see him, too,” the miner said. “That’s Henry Slate. Nobody else would be so dumb—or determined—to get out this soon after a storm.” “He’ll catch us. He’s on a horse!” “Settle down,” the man said. “He has to ride another fifteen miles ‘less he comes after us on foot. The trail’s too narrow for him to lead his horse up.” “It was something of a trial,” Gloria admitted. She had kept her eyes closed in places where the rocky trail had narrowed to only a foot wide, with a fifty or hundred-foot drop-off the penalty for a misstep. “We kin make it to the Cindy Mae ‘fore him. Let’s walk.” Gloria had not thought she had an ounce of 136

Winter Love energy left. The sight of the bounty hunter doggedly on the trail along the canyon floor got her moving. It helped having Thomas Carter encouraging her and making idle chatter and even telling increasingly raunchy jokes to make her laugh. **** Sunset the next day they stumbled out of the mouth of the last of a series of winding canyons onto a flat. Thomas grabbed her arm and pointed to a rickety wooden derrick rising fifteen feet above the ground. “That there’s my elevator down into the mine.” “Elevator?” “What I call it. I use a ladder to climb up and down but have to git the ore out of the mine somehow.” “I thought you’d have dug into the side of a mountain.” She looked around. There was considerable distance to the nearest mountain slope. Many had mines gouged into them with rocky tailings spilling out and down the slopes. “Couldn’t find gold there. Found it here. Natural fissure to ‘bout fifty feet, then a crevice I mined out and cut my drifts.” “It must be backbreaking work, loading the ore and hauling it to the surface like that.” “Pays off handsomely. The Cindy Mae’s the 137

Aurora Jamison richest mine in this mining district.” “How much do you make in a week?” she asked. It was a rude question but she had some notion of working the windlass handle to help pay for her stay. “Close to a thousand.” “A thousand pounds of rock a week,” she marveled. “Half a ton? That’s a lot of digging.” “Didn’t say that. Thought you wanted to know how much I made from the gold I clawed out of the ground.” Gloria stopped and stared at him. The setting sun lit the back of his head, leaving his face in shadow so she could not see his expression. “Quit joshing me, Thomas. I want to help you so you won’t go hungry keeping me around.” “I’d go strangle a grizzly with my bare hands if that meant you’d stay with me,” he said. “I can pull my own weight. I’ve been doing that most all my life.” “Rather have you pull somethin’ else right now,” Thomas said, stepping closer to her. He took her in his arms and kissed her. As she reached up to stroke his stubbled cheek, he caught her wrist and moved her hand between them, pushing it low enough so she could feel the bulge growing at his crotch. “What have we there?” she asked impishly. “Somethin’ you oughta go minin’ for. Let me show you my palace. Not up to my suite at the 138

Winter Love Hotel Parisian, but I like to call it home.” She squeezed down on his growing erection and then yelped as he swept her up into his arms and carried her toward a cabin set off to the side of the wood derrick. Gloria put her arms around his neck and pulled herself up enough to give him a big kiss. She was hardly aware of him kicking open the door, spinning around and stepping into the one room cabin. It felt considerably colder inside than it did out because the cabin had been shut up since Thomas had left for Manitou Springs. He lowered her to the dirt floor and pointed to a surprisingly large bed along one wall. “You go get the bed all warm fer me. I’ll start up the fire in the stove.” “You don’t want me to help light your fire?” Gloria stepped back and slipped out of her coat. She shivered in the cold but ignored it when she saw the effect she had on the miner. The bulge at his crotch was growing larger by the second. How she wanted to unbutton his fly and let his cock escape! Escape to her mouth or her drooling pussy! “Jist lookin’ at you makes me hot,” he said. “Let the fire go. We won’t freeze. Not if we share our body heat—like we did back in the cave when you saved me from freezing.” She unfastened her blouse and tossed it on top of her coat. More fumbling got her linen 139

Aurora Jamison undergarment away from her body so she stood naked to the waist in front of an admiring Thomas Carter. Her nipples tightened until they ached. Was it the cold or the knowledge she would have him in bed with her in a few seconds? “Mighty purty,” he said. He reached out and lightly flicked a callused finger across one sensitive nipple. There was no question why she responded this time. She shuddered with desire. “Git on over to the bed. I want a fire to warm this here place. We can’t stay in bed forever.” “Why not?” she teased. Stepping back, she unfastened her skirt and stepped away. More turns and twists and she stood bare ass by the bed. The cold stroked over her skin and tightened it, just as the man’s hands would soon stroke over all those places, including intimately hidden ones, and ignite her passions. She wanted to provoke him and get him into bed with her faster. She widened her stance just a little and cupped her own breasts, then ran her hands down her cold skin. It felt taut and dry under her fingers, but the spot between her legs was anything but. Her pussy lips were already rigid with blood pounding into them. The slightest touch sent tiny jolts of pleasure throughout her body. Her nipples throbbed as her heart began beating faster and when she ran her middle finger into her hot, damp pussy, she cried out. A blast of heat hit her as she worked her finger 140

Winter Love in and out faster and faster. Opening her bright blue eyes, she saw that Thomas had started the fire. The iron door clanged shut and cut off some of the heat billowing outward, but she knew the fire would keep the tiny cabin warm enough. She wanted it hot. “You started without me,” Thomas said, stripping his clothes off as he came closer. Her breath caught. She wanted him so! “Reckon I gotta work to catch up.” “Hurry,” she said. “Never, not with you,” he said in a husky whisper. “I want it to last every time I fuck you.” His strong arms caught her up against his muscular body, and then he dropped her to the surprisingly soft bed. The mattress reminded her of the one in Slate’s room back at the Hotel Parisian—or the one in the room Thomas had used to hide her. The sheer extravagance made her weak all over. Then Thomas was atop her, kissing and stroking, touching and probing. How had she come to deserve such a fine man? He might be nothing more than a poor miner, but that did not matter. She would not trade one of him for a million Abraham Turnbulls. And for millions and millions of Ethan Huggins. Straining against his rock-hard body, she began rubbing herself around and around. Her tender nipples ground into the coarse hair matted on his chest, giving them both delightfully wonderful 141

Aurora Jamison sensations, but what excited her the most was the feel of his heavy body pressing her downward. Nothing bad could happen to her ever again with Thomas protecting her. She cried out when he levered his hips forward and pressed the blunt end of his cock into her pussy lips. Wiggling about, she positioned herself just right. He entered her slowly. “No, no, I want it fast, hard!” He did not give it to her that way. He continued to slide deeper into her heated core until he was fully buried. Then he began to withdraw in the same tantalizingly slow manner. The feel of every inch of his cock pressing firmly into her inner tissues set off a prairie fire within her that spread in seconds. Her legs spread even more as she locked her heels behind his knees for leverage. When he entered her again in his painstakingly slow fashion, she heaved upward and took him deep within her. “Fuck me fast, Thomas. I want to feel you, all of you, all at once, all over. Oh!” He retreated, his cock making a sucking noise as it worked against her inner oils. She lay back and wondered how she had come to this point after her miserable life with a drunkard father who had virtually sold her like a chattel. She was on the run from the law and the worst bounty hunter in Colorado was on her trail and she was 142

Winter Love getting fucked better than she ever had by a man she loved with all her heart. More than this, she knew Thomas loved her, too. He stroked faster now, building speed. What he lacked in length he made up for in girth. He stretched her in delightful new ways. The friction of his cock against her inner walls thrilled her and carried her high on winds of ecstasy. Her fingers tightened into claws as he began to speed up. His rhythm became ragged, and every thrust rocked her to the center of her soul. Clinging fiercely to him, she gasped as she went over the brink into a powerful orgasm. Seconds later, as she was coming down from the shuddery, flushed feel, she felt him expand within her tightness and then erupt. “Yes, Thomas, yes,” she whispered in his ear. “I want you even more than before.” “I love you, Gloria Morrison,” he responded with a gasp. Then he went entirely limp on her, his weight crushing her down into the soft feather mattress. For a terrifying moment, she thought she had killed another man. Then she felt his breath against her cheek. “Let me breathe, why don’t you?” She pushed and poked and finally rolled Thomas over onto his side. Faces just inches apart, they stared at one another without saying another word. Arms cradling one another, they lay close. 143

Aurora Jamison A sudden gust of wind came through the door. Thomas had his back to the door, but Gloria saw what had happened. The door had not blown back on its hinges from any storm. Henry Slate had kicked it open.

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Winter Love

Chapter Twelve

“D

on’t bother getting out of bed,” Slate said. He pulled back his coat and showed the six-gun hanging at his side. Gloria recognized it as the one that the man had kept under his pillow at the Hotel Parisian. “What do you want?” Gloria pulled the blanket up and clutched it to her throat. A million thoughts ran through her mind. If only Thomas were not laying in the bed with his back to Slate, she might drop the blanket and flash Slate. The distraction would give Thomas time to do... what? She had no idea what a naked man could do against an armed bounty hunter. “Why, Miss Morrison—or is that Mrs. Turnbull?—it is hard to keep your names straight. It ought to be obvious what I want. The reward on your pretty little head is considerable.” “And you worked up a considerable debt staying at the Hotel Parisian,” she said. Gloria saw that this stung Slate. 145

Aurora Jamison “I enjoy living well when tracking down my quarry. I must admit, you cost me an extra day. If I had not been confused by the hotel manager talking to you as if you had worked there for some time, I would have snared you early on.” “Let her go, Slate,” Thomas said. “Don’t budge,” the bounty hunter said. His hand flashed to his six-gun and whipped it out in a smooth, practiced move. “You’re a big man, with that gun aimin’ at two naked people,” Thomas said. “Done worse in my day than shooting a naked man in the back for sassing me.” “Wait, don’t,” Gloria said anxiously. “I’ll go with you. Don’t hurt him.” “So?” Slate smiled crookedly. “That’s the way it is? The miner saves the murdering wife and she begs for his life.” “Thomas isn’t involved in this. There’s no cause to harm him. You won’t get a nickel more if you shoot him. The reward’s on my head.” “No,” Slate said slowly, strutting about, keeping his gun trained on Thomas. “No money if I ventilate him, but it would do my spirits a world of good. He made a fool out of me at the cotillion ball. Oh yes, I found out that you paid those waiters to dump the punch so I would slip,” Slate said directly to Thomas. “Nobody does that. And you added a couple days to the chase. Expenses. Being on the trail is costly, and it all comes out of 146

Winter Love my reward.” “You’ll let him alone if I go with you and not put up a fuss?” Slate eyed Gloria and downright smirked. “I ought to make you ride back to Denver just like you are now.” “My ass would freeze to the saddle,” Gloria said. Slate’s eyes went wide. “My, what a mouth you have on you. Might be we could take several days to return to Denver, and I could sample some of that tongue of yours.” Gloria put her hand on Thomas’ shoulder, holding him in bed. The man had turned red in the face with anger at the way Slate was speaking about her—and what he intended to do once they were on the trail. “Remember what you told me. He enjoys making people mad.” Gloria felt the play of powerful muscles just under Thomas’ skin. He was used to hard work and had muscles so strong he could rip Slate apart with his bare hands. And he would have, except for the six-shooter the bounty hunter held. “So you two have discussed my nature? I’m flattered,” Slate said. “Did you tell him how good I am in bed? I must be a far better cocksman than a man who spends his life living underground like a prairie dog.” “He’s twice the man you are,” Gloria said. She 147

Aurora Jamison bit her lower lip. Slate wanted her to lose her temper. It fed his sense of control over her. The gun wasn’t enough for him. He wanted verbal and mental domination as well as physical. She made a silent vow to push Slate over the first cliff they came to, if she ever got the chance. “I’ve got shackles,” Slate said. “I’ll be sure to chain you up real good on our way back. You won’t be running any time soon. Would you like that? Being all chained up and spending the night with me? Unable to do anything but what I want you to do?” With this, Thomas Carter surged out the bed, hit the dirt floor and rolled. Slate was quick, but Thomas was determined. He smashed into the bounty hunter like a ball hitting skittle pins. As he flailed about, Slate fired his pistol twice. Then he had no more chance. Thomas swarmed up over him and caught his wrist in a grip made powerful by using a pickaxe all day long. Gloria saw Slate’s face blanch with pain as Thomas exerted more and more pressure. The sixgun fell from the bounty hunter’s grip. She dropped the blanket and, naked, scrambled over the wrestling men to pick up the gun. It was huge in her hand. She had seen men fire pistols before but had never done it herself. From her experience, she remembered how one friend had broken his thumb firing a gun. She gripped the pistol in both hands and drew back the hammer 148

Winter Love with a deadly metallic click. Both men on the floor froze and looked up at her. “You’re about the prettiest, most naked avenging angel I ever did see,” Slate said, laughing. Thomas smiled, too, then got on top of the bounty hunter and pinned him down with knees on his shoulders. Slate looked from the man’s face down to his crotch. “I could bite it off. It’s close enough.” Slate made snapping motions with his teeth. “But you probably want me to leave you intact so she can suck you off.” “We got to settle this, Slate,” Thomas said. “She’s got the gun, you’ve got the upper hand,” the bounty hunter said. “I don’t want your blood on her hands,” Thomas declared. “I don’t cotton much to killin’ you myself, either. I remember ever’ single rattler I ever killed.” “I just bet you do,” Slate said contemptuously. “Be a man. Do what you have to do and don’t think on it so much. It’s not your conscience that’s bothering you, it’s your backbone. You got a yellow streak a mile wide.” “He’s egging you on, Thomas.” Gloria moved around and pointed the gun straight at Slate’s face. Except for the way he looked at her body, she might as well not have been there. That made her 149

Aurora Jamison so furious her hands began shaking. “Wave that gun around too much and you’ll shoot the wrong man,” Slate warned. “We settle this, you and me, Slate,” Thomas said. “You want to do it like men? Bareknuckles.” “Do I have to bare anything else? It’s a mite cold.” “You son of a bitch,” Thomas said. Then he cooled off, realizing that Gloria had been right. The bounty hunter only goaded him into making a mistake. “Outside, right now. You and me.” “Why don’t you put on some pants? You don’t want to freeze off your dick.” Slate looked up at Gloria and added, “You, my dear, you don’t need to get dressed on my account. Standing around bare ass like that might just distract me. Or would it distract your boyfriend more?” “Git up,” Thomas said, grabbing Slate’s collar and jerking him to his feet. “Now git on outside. I’ll be there in a second.” “He might have another gun in his saddlebags,” warned Gloria. “He wants to have it out as much as I do. But you’re right. He’s a double-crossin’ cayuse. Keep that gun on him while I git myself covered.” Thomas hastily dressed and put on his boots. He did not bother with a coat. Taking the gun from Gloria, he said, “You git dressed, too.” As she picked up her clothes and began dressing, Slate turned and bolted. Thomas rushed 150

Winter Love outside, waving the gun around. The door slammed behind him. Gloria threw on her blouse and skirt and was pulling on her coat as she went outside in time to see them facing one another. The men had squared off and began fighting. Slate fought with precision while Thomas fought with huge roundhouse punches that would have felled a tree if he connected. Around and around they circled, sometimes rushing forward and other times retreating in a fight more wary than effective. “Look out!” Gloria cried when she saw how the fight was going. Slate had maneuvered Thomas near the mouth of the mine and intended to rush forward and shove the miner to his death. As Gloria watched, the tables turned fast. Thomas had anticipated the rush, caught Slate and threw him around like a sack of flour. The bounty hunter let out a yelp as he disappeared into the open mine. “You killed him,” Gloria said, her voice small. She had no love for Henry Slate but now Thomas was guilty of murder, too. They would both be on the run from the law. “Naw, I hear him thrashin’ about down at the bottom of the shaft.” Thomas wiped his bloody knuckles on his flannel shirt, then fished in his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Go find me a pencil inside the cabin,” he said. “I’m gonna end this once and for all.” 151

Aurora Jamison Gloria did not know what to make of it, but she obeyed. Finding the pencil proved easier than she had expected. Thomas had a tin cup filled with them on a small writing desk. He took the pencil, tucked it behind his ear and then scrambled down a ladder in the mine shaft. Gloria inched forward and looked over the rim, but it was too dark to see what was going on down there. When a small candle flared she saw the two men standing almost nose to nose. She hunted for Slate’s gun but couldn’t find it. By the time she gave up the hunt, she saw Thomas climbing out of the mine. A few seconds later, Slate followed, clutching the paper Thomas had taken from his pocket earlier. “We got it all squared away,” Thomas said. “Let me git my gear and we can go.” He gave Gloria a quick kiss and went into the cabin, leaving her with the bounty hunter. “I... what’s going on?” She eyed Slate suspiciously. He made no move to grab her and make her his prisoner. “He bargained for you. I agreed.” Slate held up the paper. Gloria saw penciled signatures on the bottom line. “He turned over his mine to you?” “In exchange for me telling Andrew Turnbull and the law back in Denver that you’re dead.” Slate scratched his head, then grinned lopsidedly. “I reckon you died under an avalanche. You got 152

Winter Love caught in a blizzard and the snow roared on down and swept you off. Nobody in Colorado is ever going to see you again, more’s the pity.” He leered at her. “You are quite beautiful when you’re naked.” “But you’ll have to work the mine,” she said, not certain why she was arguing against the deal. She and Thomas could leave, go somewhere, and start a life together. Then she realized what it was. Thomas was a miner, the Cindy Mae Mine was his, and he shouldn’t trade it for her. “I can hire miners. All by himself, he takes a thousand dollars a week in gold dust out of the mine. I can equal your reward money in a couple days and not lift a finger. Miners will work for a dollar a day and grub. Might be, I’ll get generous and offer five.” She turned and looked at her lover. He had filled a blanket with what belongings he wanted to take from the cabin and had slung it over his back. She went to him and threw her arms around him, then whispered, “A thousand dollars a week? You told me you took a thousand pounds of ore from the mine! You cheated him!” “That so bad?” Thomas whispered back, “If it was true.” Gloria had to laugh. Instead, she ended up crying as she clung to him. “You two get,” Slate said. He waved around the deed to the mine. “All this bought you was a day’s 153

Aurora Jamison head start. If I go into Cripple Creek to record the deed and find you...” He let his sentence trail off. The bounty hunter was not above shooting Thomas, capturing Gloria for the reward and keeping the gold mine. “Don’t want to stay,” Thomas said. He halfdragged Gloria along until she found her stride. In a few minutes they were on a snowy road winding off to the southwest and the boom town of Cripple Creek. “We can catch a train for Victor and from there, go on out to Cali-for-nia,” he said. “You cheated him. He thinks he has a valuable mine! Is he going to be angry when he finds out! He might track us down and—” “Where’d you get the damn fool notion all I took out of the mine was a half ton of dross a week?” Gloria stopped and stared at him. “You mean there really is gold in the Cindy Mae?” “I tole you. I was diggin’ out a thousand dollars a week.” “A thousand dollars?” Gloria felt weak. Thomas had to put his arm around her to keep her from fainting. “You gave up a gold mine that was making you rich for me?” Thomas laughed. “I’d give up a dozen more.” She stared at him in wonder. He turned shy and said, “Fact is, I got a dozen more. One or two of ‘em’s even better than the Cindy Mae.” 154

Winter Love “What?” “I’m what you’d call a millionaire,” he admitted. “But you were in the mine, digging, why?” “I enjoy that a whole lot more than sittin’ behind a desk tellin’ others what to do. It keeps me humble.” “Humble?” “I do enjoy my gold, from time to time. Over at the Hotel Parisian? That there’s my permanent room. I sorta bought it, though they rent it out when I’m not there.” “You mean if you show up, they throw out anyone who is renting it?” “That about sums it up,” Thomas said. She moved away from him. Her thoughts were chaotic and nothing seemed right to her. “I can’t go with you,” she said in a tiny voice. “Why the hell not? Pardon my French,” he said. “You want me to give away more of my gold mines?” “No, you shouldn’t have given Slate the Cindy Mae,” Gloria said, not sure what she meant. “I’ll be a burden. The law—” “Slate’s gonna take care of that. I heard that fancy lie he thunk up. Sounded good to me. Your stepson’s not gonna argue none since he doesn’t have to pay any reward and still gits his pa’s fortune.” “Yes, but—” 155

Aurora Jamison “I know what it is. You want me to wine and dine and romance you. Jist wait ‘til you see Russian Hill out there in San Francisco. The Union Club’s got this fine dining room. I kin rent the whole shebang, jist me and you. A dozen waiters all runnin’ around, doin’ nuthin’ but bowin’ and scrapin’ and lookin’ after you.” “Thomas,” she said, “you don’t have to do that.” “Good!” he cried. “I hate gettin’ all gussied up. So how about you and me gettin’ an entire car to ourselves on a train and fuckin’ our brains out all the way to Frisco?” “Now you’re talking,” she said, grabbing him and giving him a big kiss. “By train. We can give each other a kiss for every railroad tie we roll over.” “And find a new position for makin’ love ever’ time the whistle blows.” He laughed and said, “That’s travelin’ in style.” Gloria couldn’t wait.

The End

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About the Author

B

orn in the middle of winter in Michigan more (how many more I'm not saying) than 30 years ago, I was lacking a name until my father saw the aurora borealis and decided this was a sign, the right name. (I'm so glad my mother insisted on "Aurora" and not "Borealis!") In spite of my name, I have never seen the aurora (but my younger sister in Alaska has and says its constantly changing, shifting nature is like mine). As a child I moved through the Midwest, living in four different states before I was in the third grade. Finally ending up in West Texas, I married, was widowed, and my only child is in his senior year in high school. I love to read fantasy, and writing is giving me an outlet to live it, as well.