Desire in Deadwood Read Online Free PDF Page B

intelligent and she realised that he had witnessed her distress as he’d descended the stairs.
    “Yes dear. Mr Hamilton is a nice man.” She squeezed his hand and tried to smile to reassure him but it felt more like a grimace.
    “I hope we’ll be happy in this town, Mama.”
    “So do I, Aaron.”
    “Maybe Mr Hamilton can help us get settled.”
    She swallowed a sob and looked into her son’s dark brown eyes—as soft and innocent as Nate’s once had been.
     
    * * * *
     
    When she left the hotel the next afternoon, her belly fluttered like a maiden’s on her wedding morn. She had bathed and washed her hair then dressed in her finest linen, taking extra care to apply rosewater to her wrists, neck, between her breasts and even behind her knees. It was as if every application of the scented water was a tribute to a kiss Nate had placed there.
    Once her hair had dried she had brushed it until it shone then had left it loose—no sense pinning it up just to take it down again. Though she knew she would face no loving attention from Nate, no gentle and passionate embrace, she wanted to please him, to soothe his rage and hurt with all she had to offer. She could not win back his love, that much was clear, but maybe she could atone for some of the hurt she’d caused him and use her body as a salve for his wounded pride, his broken heart.
    She hurried down the stairs and out into the bright afternoon sunshine then collided with a solid black wall.
    “Whoa! Slow down there missy!” Two strong hands gripped her upper arms and stopped her falling backward.
    She looked up into the dark face and wily eyes of the local businessman Al Swearengen.
    “What’s the hurry?” The smile beneath his thick black moustache made her shudder.
    “I…uh…I’m sorry, sir, I…”
    He leaned over so that his face was almost touching hers and she fought the urge to recoil from his fetid, whisky stewed breath.
    “S’okay, Mrs Campbell. Anytime you wanna run into me is fine.” He ogled her chest. “It’d be my pleasure. Al Swearengen at your service.”
    Evelyn retreated a step, her hands folding protectively over her breasts.
    “Yes, I know who you are Mr Swearengen.”
    “Don’t believe all you hear!” The smile became a leer.
    “I try never to make a decision about a person until I meet them.” Evelyn raised her chin and shook her hair in what she hoped was a display of confidence.
    “Me too, ma’am”—the man nodded—“me too. Like as I’d never judge a lady such as yourself…whatever I thought might be going on betwixt yourself and the honourable Mr Hamilton.”
    Evelyn bit her lip. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Mr Swearengen.”
    “Oh come, come, Mrs Campbell. An attractive widow and a single gentleman, meeting at a local saloon in the middle of the afternoon.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Whatever could the two of you be getting up to? Playing cards, perhaps?”
    Evelyn swallowed hard. “We…”
    “S’okay, Mrs Campbell”—he tapped the side of his nose—“I’m not judging you or the gentleman. He’s paying me well for the use of the room and for my discretion. All I ask is that when your little assignation is over…you consider me next in line.”
    Evelyn’s legs trembled and she felt that they would soon give way. The saloon owner was propositioning her in the middle of the afternoon in a public place and suggesting that she was no better than one of his whores. But she was no courtesan! No whore to be passed from one man to another.
    Swearengen leered at her evident distress then leaned closer. “What say you, Mrs Campbell?”
    “What’s going on here?” Nate strode across the porch and Evelyn staggered towards him, grasping at his proffered arm while the older man turned to greet him.
    “Well, good afternoon to ya, Mr Hamilton. I was just introducing myself to Mrs Campbell here.”
    “Well you’ve done that, so what else do you want?”
    Evelyn noted that Nate’s eyes were