What time was it? Kid took the watch from the pocket of his pants which lay folded on the floor next to his bunk. The bright light of the full moon coming in the glass window pane allowed just enough light to see. Three a.m. What had awakened him, he wondered. He usually slept the sleep of the dead unless there was a disturbance or loud noise. He shrugged and rolled onto his side. The bunk across the room was empty, the cover thrown back, where Heyes had obviously gotten up. Where was he at this hour? What was he doing? What a stupid question, he thought. This was Hannibal Heyes he was talking about. Sleepless should have been his middle name. Kid swung his feet off the side of his bunk and pulled his pants on over his red union suit.
The full moon gave an eerie glow to the world outside. He scanned the ranch. He didn't see Heyes anywhere. Just then the orange glow of the end of a cigar near the corral caught his eye. He strolled across the dirt drive and through the grassy yard in his socked feet, to where Hannibal Heyes leaned against the corral fence.
"What are you doing awake?" Heyes asked before the Kid even reached him.
"Wondering what the heck you're doing, that's what."
Heyes took a long draw of the cigar then exhaled the pungent smelling smoke into the dark air around him. "Couldn't sleep."
"Well, I gathered that much, Heyes. What's keeping you awake this time?"
"Tomorrow."
"Now don't you start too. It's enough that Evie's about to drive me crazy with not eating and sleeping because her aunt's coming tomorrow. I don't need you starting too. First she's nervous and then you're nervous because she's nervous. All this nervousness is gettin' on my nerves."
"I was just thinking, Kid, what if she's right? What if it was a mistake asking her aunt to come out here?"
"You're not buying into that nonsense are you? Look, Heyes she's just scared that's all this is. No body's crazy about venturing into the unknown. She'll be fine once her aunt's here and she sees she's not some three headed ogre."
"I know that Kid, I'm just worried about her because she believes it."
"Is that why you're out here in the middle of the night then, worrying about Evie."
"That and I'm watching her window. I told her if she had the dream again to light the lamp and I'd be there."
"Oh, what are you planning on doing, jumping all the way to the second floor window? Georgia won't let you any where near her bedroom in the daytime, what makes you think she's gonna let you in this time of night. The slightest movement in that house and she'll wake up. And you do know that Georgia's room is right below Evie's, don't ya? I don't know about you but I wouldn't want be on the receiving end of that broom if Miss Georgia catches you."
"Kid, have you forgotten that we used to break into banks. How hard can it be to slip into a ranch house and creep upstairs without waking anybody? This is me you're talking to, remember. I'm a professional. And I haven't lost my touch."
"Well, here's your chance to prove that theory," Kid pointed to Evie's window on the second floor at the side of the house. "The light just came on. Need me to spot you or run interference."
"Nah, I can handle it."
"Alright then , Heyes. It's your hide." He started back towards the bunkhouse then stopped to add, "Just, uuuh, stay outta trouble will ya."
"I'm not afraid of Georgia." Heyes swatted the air with his hand to dismiss the thought.
"You gettin' caught by Georgia ain't the kind of trouble I'm talking about, Heyes."
A mischievous grin made its way across Heyes' face before he padded across the yard in bare feet. He knew the kind of trouble the Kid was referring to. Being alone with his sweet Evie in the middle of the night, in her bedroom. He was probably asking for trouble. He'd try his best to stay out of it but, he wasn't making any promises.
Kid watched as Hannibal Heyes skillfully and silently disappeared behind the large oak front door of the McCreedy home. "Sure hope that broom don't find its way to your backside, Heyes," he said to himself.
Heyes tiptoed to the staircase on bare feet. He hadn't put on his boots for fear they would make too much noise on the wooden floors. The first five steps were silent. The sixth step however creaked like a rusty door hinge. He cringed and waited. Nothing. He decided to take the rest of the steps quickly two at a time. He stood now outside her door. The soft glow of the lamplight spilled out from under the door. Whew. Made it. He opened the door to her room just enough to slide through. Facing the door he pushed it together gently. With a self satisfied smile he turned to face the room. His breath caught in his throat for a moment. He had not been in this room since the first night Mac had shown it to them. Georgia wouldn't allow him in here. But he had not been able to shake a vision of Evangeline lying in the center of that frilly blue bed with its gauzy bed curtains billowing in the breeze. That vision had haunted his dreams ever since he'd first seen this room. And now he stood here in her room in the middle of the night and there she sat. In the center of that frilly blue bed. Her eyes all sleepy looking, her hair all mussed and hanging loose. How in the world she managed to make a high necked, long sleeved white cotton night gown alluring, he didn't know, but somehow she was doing it. His whole world seemed to tilt on its axis. She stretched out her arms and beckoned him with a come hither motion of her fingers, like a child reaching for its mother. But there was nothing parental about the longing she stirred inside of him.
He had come. She hadn't know if he would. He had told her if she had the dream again, to light the lamp in her window and he would be there. But she had not wanted him to sacrifice a night's sleep waiting for her to light the lamp. But he had. Seeing him stand here now in her bedroom, where he wasn't allowed to come, her arms felt suddenly achingly empty and the space between them seemed vast. And so she summoned him with her outstretched arms. As he crossed the room to close the distance between them her eyes drank in the sight of him. Her lungs seemed to be too small. She couldn't get enough air. And her heart was pierced with an undefineable yearning. He wore only his Henley undershirt and his buff jeans. He wore no belt and the top two buttons of his jeans were unfastened. As he tiptoed across the floor on this cute bare feet, she thought him unbelievably adorable and undoubtedly desirable.
At last, he reached her and sitting on the edge of the bed leaned into her waiting arms. They were content for a long while just to hold each other. Both sighed heavily when he finally released her to look into her eyes still puffy with sleep.
"You have the dream again?"
"Uh huh."
"Same as the other ones?"
"Yes. Mama was here. Saying the same thing over and over. 'Don't let her get off the train. Don't let her get off the train. She's trouble. Don't let her get off the train.'"
"How can I make you feel better?"
"Just being here does that. But I really meant when I said. I didn't want you staying up all night just for me. I'm a big girl. I can handle a silly old dream."
"I know you can. But I never sleep that good any way, you know that. And besides, any opportunity I can find to be alone with you, I'm gonna take it. You're worth losing a little sleep."
"You just don't know how much I love you," she cooed as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. As he held her his hands stroked her thick shiny hair. They each inhaled deeply of the other's scent. He smelled of clean soap, leather, after shave and sweet cigars. His nostrils were filled with her provocative musky floral essence. His nose found it's way into the curve where her throat met her shoulder. He planted playful kisses there as he spoke against her soft skin, "I really love this perfume you wear."
A deep throaty chuckle bubbled from her throat as she leaned her head back giving him better access to her sensitive throat. "That's funny, because I don't wear perfume," she said huskily. When his mouth ceased its delicious exploration of her neck she opened her eyes to find him staring hungrily at her.
"Then, lady, you got some sweet smelling skin." Their eyes locked for a brief moment, before they both moved toward each other in a frenzy of desire. Theirs mouths fell hungrily together in a deep scorching kiss. His tongue seeking and finding hers. She eased back onto the mountain of pink lace and ruffled pillows, drawing him with her, their fevered mouths never parting. When he felt her small hands grasp the hem of his shirt and begin to tug it upward, he broke the kiss to help her get rid of the only barrier that separated her from the one thing she craved at this moment. His skin. God, how she wanted to be closer to him. She wanted to somehow be absorbed into his skin, to be a part of who and what he was. She couldn't get close enough. Her hands were everywhere, measuring the deep cleft of his back, the breadth of his strong shoulders, the powerful arms and chest. She revelled in the feel of his tanned skin stretched taut over lean hard muscle. It was like iron wrapped in velvet, she thought. But still not close enough. She put her hands on his waist and tugged him in the direction of the big bed's center. He obliged her and stretched out in the center of the bed beside her.
They lay facing each other. Endearments and phrases of love and desire that they could not express with words passed between them as they gazed at each other with passion clouded eyes. She finally let her eyes leave his and travel down the length of him as he lay there bare chested, the top buttons of his pants undone, like a door left ajar in invitation to what lay beyond its borders. He was beautiful. He was perfect. She wanted to tell him so, but she was afraid if she tried to speak no words would come out. And so she showed him instead. Her lips found their way to his throat placing tentative small kisses there. His sharp intake of breath encouraging further exploration. She felt a surge of feminine power and her hands and mouth began a journey that would take her down over his muscled chest, his rippled flanks and his flat belly. The growing evidence of his desire was there mere inches from her face as she familiarized herself with the sprinkling of dark hair that surrounded his perfect little belly button. She hesitated, not yet ready to take that bold of a step. And so she made her way back up his hard torso to find his mouth eagerly awaiting hers once more.
She had surprised him yet again. He lay there unable to move, transfixed by the vision of her and her sweet lips plying his body with nibbles and kisses. Her hands warm and eager. My God this woman was going to be the death of him. He stifled a groan when her exploration took her close to that most male part of him. He saw her momentary hesitation as her gaze fell to his groin. She was bold yes, but not yet that bold. As her lips found their way to his mouth once again, he grew impatient and decided it was his turn to do a little exploring. He turned with her pinning her beneath him. As she bent her knees to accommodate his weight between her thighs the hem of her gown slipped down in a pool of white around her hips. He touched every inch of her exposed skin with his eyes, before allowing his hands the pleasure. He let his hands travel up her shapely calves to linger on her firm thighs. She was so soft and smooth.
No other human except her mother, and that vile hideous Harlan had ever seen or touched her naked thighs before. The sight of his dark manly hands on her soft creamy skin, had her throbbing in places she'd never throbbed before. The only thing separating the most secret and feminine part of her from him was the white cotton material trapped between them. The very thought made her ache. "Why do you make me ache so?" She was thinking out loud not really expecting him to answer.
But he did. "Show me where it aches and I'll kiss it better." His voice, deeper than usual, made her quiver all over. Did she dare? Did she dare show him the places where he made her ache? She decided she should test the waters of her own bravery first. She placed a finger tip to the side of her throat. He removed her hand and planted a wet open mouthed kiss to the spot. He looked down at her, waiting. She placed her finger to her cheek. Another kiss. Then to her lips. Another knee weakening kiss. He looked at her this time with a challenge in his eyes. How far was she willing to go. Her breathing was heavy, her chest heaving as she slid her trembling hands down the front of her gown to cover each of her breasts. The look in his eyes as her shaking hands found their way to her aching breasts almost knocked the breath completely from her. It was a raw primitive need she saw there. But it wasn't frightening. It was exciting.
He slowly removed her trembling hands and spread her arms out to the side. Then he began the torturous slow process of undoing the ruffle laden row of buttons that held together the front of her gown. The few minutes turned into an agonizing eternity for both of them until he finally had the last button undone. As he knelt above her in the center of the bed strewn with lace and fluff, and the sheer blue curtains hanging around them, he parted the bodice of her gown. His hands brushed her soft womanly skin as he moved the material aside. And when it was open, he was spellbound by the sight of her. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He sat back for a long moment and just devoured her with his eyes. Perfection was the only word he could think of at this moment. The picture she created lying there on that mountain of frills and fluff with her arms spread wide, her hair spilling all around her and her heaving breasts, heavy with passion exposed for him to see and touch and taste, was almost more than he could take.
But he kept himself under control, remembering that this was all new to her. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then her eyelids and then her nose, before gently kissing her lips, assuaging any fear she might have. But when he looked in her flushed face he saw only love, trust and desire. He brushed the back of his knuckles along her cheek and her chin, then over her throat and across her chest. Her breasts quivered in anticipation of his touch. The reality of it when it came however, made her gasp. His knuckles barely grazed her already beaded nipple. It hardened further at his feather like touch. He moved to the other breast with the same results. Then he turned both hands so that he held each of the perfect globes in the palms of his hands. He massaged her wanting flesh until a small moan escaped her throat. "Is that better?" he asked in whisper. She would try to speak, if her suddenly dry throat would permit. "No, actually your making it worse," was her whispered reply. If the almost painfully delightful things he was doing to her throbbing nipples now didn't help soothe the ache, she didn't know what would. But he did. She was shocked, then dazed, then overcome with delight as she watched his dark head descend and his mouth took the place of his hands. It was as if lightening was coursing though her body, creating a pathway of heat from the spot where is mouth tormented her to the spot at the apex of her thighs where his pelvis now held her captive. He worried first one breast and then the other, drawing the tips into his greedy mouth like a baby seeking its mother's milk. She never knew it could be like this. Never knew anything could feel this good. Her head tossed, her eyes squeezed shut. She felt like the walls were all on fire. She never wanted it to end. In her fury of desire to keep his mouth from leaving her aching breasts she brought her outstretched arms down to cradle his head to her. In doing so, she knocked the alarm clock off the bedside table.
It hit the floor with a loud clang. They both sat bolt upright. Staring at each other with stricken looks, they waited. At first they thought they had dodged the bullet, but then they heard the unmistakable sound of feet padding quickly through the house downstairs.
They jumped from the bed like it was full of rattlesnakes. "Oh, my, God," she hysterically whispered her hands fanning the air.
"Where's my shirt," he mouthed as he frantically searched.
He retrieved his shirt and pulled it over his head then hastily refastened the buttons of Evie's nightgown that her shaky hands were unable to fasten.
"Blow out the lamp," he said.
They both rushed to the lamp and extinguished the light. Heyes tiptoed to the door and turned the key in the lock.
"Get under the bed," she whispered.
"That's the first place she'll look. Besides I don't think I'll fit."
They both turned around and around in the dark room lit now only by the splashes of moonlight coming through the windows for a place to hide. There was none. Then they saw the orange glow of the lamplight coming down the hallway outside her room. "Miss Vangeline, you alright in there?"
Heyes motioned for her to go ahead and answer her. Her voice sounded strange and absurdly loud as she called out, "Yes, I'm fine. Why? What's wrong?"
The door knob giggled. "What's this door doing locked. If'n that young man is in there, I got my broom right here ready to beat him all the way back to that bunkhouse. Somebody better be lettin' me in this room right now."
There was no other option. He lifted the window and straddled the sill. Then he carefully lowered himself to dangle precariously from his fingertips down the side of the house.
When he was out of sight, Evie went to the door and turned the key. Miss Georgia stood there in her nightcap and gown with a scowl on her face. "What's goin' on in here?"
"I don't know what you mean. I was sleeping."
"Then what was that God awful racket I heard. Woke me from a dead sleep." She stepped into the room and scanned it. Then with her broom in one hand and her lamp in the other, she swept under the bed. Whew. Close one. Then she saw the clock on the floor. "This must be what I heard. Didn't this wake you up?" she asked with a suspicious glare.
"I must have knocked it off when I was having a dream."
"You still having that same dream, child?"
Evangeline was a good student. When Hannibal Heyes was teaching her the ins and outs of dodging the law, one of the things he taught her was how to lead people's attention to where you wanted it to be. She slowly eased herself into a position next to the chaise lounge forcing Miss Georgia's back to the window that said outlaw now dangled from. She had to get her out of here quick. She didn't know how long he was going to be able to hang on out there.
"Yes, it was the same dream." She produced her best distraught face and placed a fretful hand to her forehead. "I think maybe some hot tea might calm my nerves and help me get back to sleep."
Heyes could hear the conversation taking place inside. Evie made him proud in her attempt to draw Georgia away from the window and out of the room. But if she didn't get her out of there soon, it would be too late. He was loosing his grip fast. Each second was like an hour as he fought to hold onto the window ledge.
"You let Miss Georgia go down and fix you some right up. I'll have it up here in a jiffy."
"No! I'll come down and help you with it."
Oh, no. He wasn't going to make it. He didn't want to look over his shoulder. He didn't want to know how far the fall was going to be. He mentally prepared himself for the impact of the hard earth.
"Suit yourself then." She started towards the door. Evangeline's sigh of relieve turned into a gasp of horror when Georgia stopped just short of the doorway and turned toward the open window. "No wonder you been having strange dreams, sleeping with that draft coming in here. Next thing you know you'll be catching your death of cold." She marched determinedly towards the window.
Suddenly Heyes felt something solid under his feet. He hazarded a glance over his shoulder. There was the Kid bracing a ladder against the house. Heyes let the air escape his lungs as he scurried down the ladder and onto the ground. Kid grabbed the ladder and they ran like scalded dogs to the bunkhouse.
Miss Georgia stuck her head out the window and surveyed the yard outside as Evie stood with her mouth agape. "Sho is a big ole bright moon out tonight." She shut the window and headed into the hallway. Evangeline stood rooted to the spot, too scared to move. "Well, child, you comin'?"
"Uh uh uh," she stammered not sure what to say or do. "I've changed my mind. It's too much trouble to make tea at this hour." She faked a yawn. "I'm sleepy again already. I'm just gonna go back to bed."
"Child are you sho you feelin' alright?"
"I'm fine, Miss Georgia. I'm sorry I woke you. Thanks for checking on me. Good night." She closed the door and rushed to the window, threw it open and peered over the edge. He was gone. Had he fallen? Was he hurt? Oh, my Lord, had she just lain in bed with him and had he done all those deliciously forbidden things to her? She felt weak all of a sudden. She needed to lie down. But she so wanted to find out if Hannibal was alright. Did she dare take the risk of sneaking out of the house. Georgia was bound to hear her if she did. She decided she would take the risk. He was worth it. Look at the risk he had taken just to come and comfort her tonight. And boy had he comforted her. She was heading to the wardrobe for a pair of shoes when she heard a ticking at the window. He was tossing pebbles against the glass. She hurried to the window and opened it. He stood below her in the moonlight, still bare footed, still adorable. "Are you alright?" she said just loud enough for him to hear.
"I'm fine. Kid saved me with the ladder."
"Oh, good," she breathed in relief. "Georgia didn't see you, we pulled it off. Tell Kid I said thanks."
"I will. Hey, I didn't get to tell you. I love you." Then he smiled that smile that outshone the brilliant moon.
Her heart was absolutely bursting with love for this man. "I love you, too. Now get out of here before Georgia and her broom catch you."
She blew him a kiss before he spun around and disappeared around the corner of the house.
No matter who or what got off that train tomorrow, as long as Hannibal Heyes was with her, she didn't give a tinker's damn anymore. And she'd be damned before she'd let anybody take him from her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, did she see us?" Kid asked from his bunk when Heyes came back in the bunkhouse.
"Nope. Whew, but it sure was a close one."
"Yeah, you owe me one. Again."
"Evie said to tell you 'thanks'."
"You can both thank me by letting me get some sleep. I gotta be heading out in a couple more hours if I'm gonna make it to Cold Springs by eleven." He scooted down under the covers. "And another thing Heyes, if your gonna sneak into her room again, just use the ladder and go through her window. It'll save me a lot of time and lost sleep."
"Who says there'll be a next time."
"I know you, Heyes. There'll be a next time." Kid rolled over to face the wall. He was asleep in seconds.
Heyes sat there in his lonely bunk, wishing he could go back up that ladder and finish what he and Evie had started. He missed her fiercely already, just minutes after leaving her. He remembered the feel of her in his hands and the taste of her on his lips. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotions that bombarded his senses. Desire and passion where there of course, but it was the force of the love he felt for her that had his head spinning. And that love is what kept him from grabbing that ladder and going to that window right now. He knew if he went to her she would not turn him away. And the consequences of taking that step were irrevocable. He wouldn't force those consequences on her. Not when he wasn't in a position to offer her any kind of security for the future. Without the amnesty, he couldn't even think about making her his wife. Had he really just used the word wife? How had things changed so drastically in just a few short months. That September day when he'd found her in that valley, he never would have dreamed of looking at a woman with commitment or marriage in mind. But when he thought of being separated from her it made his heart hurt and his lungs tighten. He didn't really believe in the nonsense of her dreams, did he? No, he didn't. He wouldn't. He wouldn't entertain any thought that something was going to happen to keep him away from her. He may not be able to marry her or offer her the riches and privilege that Mrs. Olivia Vanderbilt could, but he could damn sure love her more than anyone else and for as long as he wanted. Nobody, not even the woman getting off that train could change that.
YOU ARE READING
Thief of My Heart (Watty Awards Finalist 2012)
Historical FictionHannibal Heyes is an outlaw trying to go straight. He's wanted dead or alive. The former leader of the Devil's Hole Gang doesn't have time or room for a woman in his life. But when he saves a girl from a band of murdering thieves, everything changes...
