Page 28 of The Copper Heir (The Gilded West #1)
Chapter Thirteen
E mmy awoke the next morning smothered in man.
As she lay on her stomach, Hunter’s arm was tucked firmly around her waist while his face was buried in her hair, which had come loose from its braid at some point during their night together.
His scent was all around her, accompanied by something more, a soft musk that had to be the scent of their lovemaking.
She blushed just thinking it and knowing that everyone would know how they had spent the night, but she had no regrets.
Since she planned to disappear, it didn’t matter that they knew.
Soon she would be someone else living somewhere far away and she’d have the memory of this magnificent man keeping her warm all night.
Shifting beneath his weight, she turned to look at him, wanting to savor the moment before the melancholy of leaving him set in.
Even in his sleep he took her breath away.
His dark blond hair had dried awkwardly as they slept and stuck out in tufts.
Sleep barely softened his features, though, he still looked dangerous, like he’d awaken with the slightest provocation and give her that smile of his that meant she was in for a long morning in bed.
For a brief moment she imagined what it might be like to wake up with him every day, to spend hours in bed with him before sharing breakfast, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on the thoughts for too long.
She knew men like Hunter Jameson. Even if she stayed with him, their mornings together were numbered.
Despite what he had said she couldn’t quite believe that he wouldn’t tire of her like Ship had tired of her mother.
In the early days when Ship had courted her mother at Victoria House, there wasn’t a thing he hadn’t promised them.
A fine house with fine things to fill it, a pony for Emmaline and fine dresses.
He was charming enough and dressed the part so that her mother had believed him.
She’d believed every lie he’d ever told, even after they arrived to find the farm dilapidated and complete with a surly son he’d neglected to mention at all.
Her mother had believed him until the day years later he’d arrived home after having disappeared for months.
He’d never mentioned what had happened, but her mother had found a barely legible letter written from some sweetheart in another town, hidden in his saddlebag.
It had crushed her to learn that Ship had moved on.
Hunter would move on, too, once the novelty wore off.
Maybe he’d wake up and the novelty would already be gone.
It was that sobering thought that gave her the nerve to wrench her gaze from his handsome face and take the first step in walking away from him.
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she slowly slid out from under him.
He tightened his grip and she whispered that she needed to use the bathing chamber, when he relented, grumbling as he rolled away.
Gaining her feet, she threw a quick glance at the curtained window, which showed a gray sliver of light peeking in.
It was still very early, but soon the town would stir.
It was best that she get herself out of the brothel before then.
She’d stop by Glory’s room and borrow enough money to get them to San Francisco.
Before Ship, her mother had talked about San Francisco quite a lot.
It had always seemed like a magical far-off place where anything was possible.
Now, it was the only place Emmy could think to go.
Especially since she’d learned that some of the women from Victoria House had relocated there at various times over the years.
Glory kept in contact with them because she genuinely cared about the women she employed and Emmy knew that their unbending loyalty would allow her to impose on them while she gained her bearings.
Or she hoped it would, at least for a little while.
Surely in a growing place like San Francisco she’d be able to find work as a governess or even a shopgirl very quickly.
A panic started to rise in her belly, but she beat it down.
A million things could go wrong. She could not find work and be worse off than now, because the children would be in danger.
The plan was less than ideal and was exactly what she had been trying to avoid, but it was her only choice now.
She couldn’t come this far only to go back.
First, she’d take a train to whichever town had a station nearest the farm, then find a horse she could ride home to collect the girls.
Perhaps she could arrange a temporary lease instead of buying one outright.
She didn’t even know if such an arrangement was possible and couldn’t allow herself to think of all the things that could go wrong with such a poorly planned escape.
The important thing was to get home to Rose and Ginny, to collect them and disappear.
Retrieving her robe from the corner, she draped it over her and belted it loosely at the waist before casting one last look across the room.
One arm was thrown over his head, his entire torso bared as the blanket draped seductively low, revealing the light brown path of curls to his manhood.
As if her body was instinctively responding to his, a twinge of pleasure chased with aching pain shot through her middle, reminding her of just how well he had used her.
She smiled and blushed again as she tiptoed to the door, relieved to find it had been unlocked at some point during the night.
She poked her head out first, half expecting to find the giant there, but the hallway was vacant except for a leather satchel set next to the door.
On bare feet, she made it all the way back to her room without being seen.
A strange sort of euphoria settled in her as she cast off the robe and grabbed a borrowed dress from the bureau, standing before the small dressing mirror to pull it on.
She didn’t look changed at all, but somehow lying with Hunter had changed her.
She felt alive in a way she hadn’t before.
Always before it had seemed like she’d been waiting for her life to start, like she was just a shell waiting for her spirit to find her, but that had changed.
To be fair, it had started changing before she’d even left him that day in the small cavern.
He had looked at her and she felt as if she was seeing herself for the first time.
Her plan to escape Hunter and his brothers hadn’t worked, not exactly.
Her plan to escape Ship hadn’t worked either.
Not yet. But now she knew that she could do something. She would go home and get her sisters.
It was better than waiting around for something to happen, which was exactly what she’d been doing.
The room she had been given was an older room, plainer than those reserved for customers and the women who made their living at Victoria House, so it didn’t have running water.
She dumped the water left over in the pitcher from the previous day into the bowl and grabbed a cloth to scrub herself clean.
Then she dressed and ran a brush through her tangled mess of hair.
With nothing at hand to style it with and no time to waste, she braided it again and tied the end with a bit of cloth.
The only thing she’d brought with her was the brown dress she’d been wearing, so she retrieved it from the bureau and rolled it up under her arm.
She took one quick glance at the woman staring back at her in the mirror, gave herself a smile and set off to take control of the rest of her life.
Though she did reach back to grab the bank draft that bore Hunter’s name, just in case.
Folding it, she tucked it into the bodice of her dress.
Taking care to pull the door closed softly behind her so as not to wake any of the servants who shared this wing with her, she gingerly let go of the doorknob and turned to make her way to Glory’s room, but a broad chest and set of shoulders stopped her in her tracks.
She shrieked, but managed to bring her hand up to stifle most of the noise.
Looking up, she wasn’t at all surprised when her gaze settled on Hunter’s angry, green stare.
He was dressed in clean clothes she hadn’t seen before, a simple button-up shirt in dark blue with tan trousers and a coat pulled onto his wide frame.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
She tried to be angry that he would attempt to sway her, but she couldn’t summon the sentiment, not with the memory of his body against her own, inside her, bringing her so much pleasure she thought she’d die from it.
And especially not with the endearing way his hair still stuck out in all directions and she could still feel the sensation of those thick, silky strands sliding between her fingers as she held him close.
Dropping her hand, she felt her lips turn up in a smile that she couldn’t stop and she clenched her fingers into a fist to stop from reaching out to touch him. She regretted not being able to experience waking up with him, looking over and catching his smile as his gaze found hers in bed.
“Good morning, Hunter.” Heaven help her, even now staring at his perfectly formed lips all she wanted to do was kiss him.
His frown didn’t let up. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going home.” She had the almost uncontrollable urge to run her thumb over the deep grooves between his eyebrows and smooth them out. He wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, though she half considered it just to see if it would make him angrier.
He had the nerve to look stunned by her admission. “Emmy, you’re not free to go.”
“I know you think I’m still your captive, but I’m not. I escaped.”