Lips That Touch Mine

by Wendy Lindstrom

  "What was I supposed to do? She had nowhere else to go."

  He opened his mouth, then gave her an understanding nod. "If he should show up, do not confront him."

  "I have my gun."

  "Which you do not know how to use." He placed a finger across her lips to stop her argument. "Come get me. Don't argue with him. Don't try to protect Anna. Slip out the back and come get me immediately. Understand?"

  She nodded.

  "I mean it, Claire. If the man killed someone, he could be deadly to you or Anna."

  A rush of fear made her nauseous, and she pressed her hand to her churning stomach.

  "I'm right across the street. Just let me know if you need me."

  "Thank you," she said, suddenly wishing she wouldn't have been so quick to decline his offer of taking a room.

  He cupped her jaw and studied her so intently, a flush of weakness stole through her body. "Every time I look at you, I want to kiss you."

  Her stomach dipped. No wonder women swooned at his feet.

  He stood so close, looked so handsome, smelled so good, she couldn't help being attracted to him. But it was more than his handsome face and warm charm that drew her. She was touched by his natural inclination to protect her and Anna. He would protect anybody in danger. He couldn't help himself. The honorable man in him wouldn't allow him to turn a blind eye, to ignore a person in need. Why hadn't she seen that before?

  Her heart begged her to forget that he owned a saloon and was unsuitable for her. But she couldn't. No matter what his heroic impulses, or how handsome and seductive he was, he wasn't the man for her. No man was for her.

  "Thank you for the sleigh ride and the visit to the cemetery." She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. "It meant a lot to me."

  "I was glad to do it."

  "It was kind of your mother to send the basket of food. Please thank her for me. Anna and I will enjoy every morsel, I'm sure."

  "I'll tell her." He reached for the doorknob to let himself out. "Lock your doors tonight."

  "Boyd?"

  He hesitated with his hand on the door handle.

  "The castle is magnificent," she blurted, unable to let him leave without telling him how much the gift meant to her.

  A soft smile crept across his lips, "So are you, Claire."

  He stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him.

  She locked up, then peered out the frosted window, finding herself in a wonderful, harrowing new danger.

  Boyd was the magnificent one, bringing her the basket of holiday cheer, promising to defend her against the dangers in her life. But he didn't realize that he was the biggest danger of all. He was tempting her to take a risk with a man...completely unsuitable for her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The basket Boyd left was filled with food. Claire and Anna wrapped the turkey and dressing, and put them in the shed for the night. Then they sat at the table drinking tea, eating plum pudding and talking.

  Claire told Anna about her temperance marches and the good she was trying to accomplish in her new town.

  Anna's eyes widened with respect. "Someday I hope to be as brave as you."

  "I'm not brave at all, Anna. I'm just trying to survive, and help other women like us." She laid her fork on the table. "Do you think Larry killed that man?" she asked, needing to know what she was up against.

  Anna's lashes lowered, but she gave a weary nod. "I saw him do it. Larry was in a high stakes card game, but another man won. Larry claimed the man cheated. They fought, and Larry shot him. As soon as the sheriff took Larry to jail, I packed my bag and left. I was too terrified to stay." She sighed and looked at Claire, her brown eyes bleak. "You're lucky you're a widow."

  Claire sat in shocked silence.

  "Oh!" Anna slapped her hand over her mouth as horror filled her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

  Of course she hadn't. Claire wouldn't have wished Jack dead either, but she was glad to be free of him. Not that she could ever confess that, or the truth about how he died.

  "I'm sorry, Claire. I just...I'm scared." Her eyes misted and she averted her face. "Living with Larry was like living with a volcano. I was always waiting and watching to see when he was going to erupt." "

  I know." Claire covered Anna's shaking hand with her own. "I know." She'd existed in the same state of anxiety while living with Jack.

  "He'll kill me if he finds me. That's why I can't go home to my family."

  Claire understood. There was little Anna could do about her situation. She could return to her husband and endure the violence, Or she could hide.

  "How did you meet Larry?" she asked.

  "My hat blew off in town, and Larry retrieved it for me. He wouldn't return it until I promised to take a drive with him," Anna sighed. "I thought his teasing was romantic. I didn't know it was laced with meanness. All I'd wanted was an honorable man to love, a small home to keep, and lots of laughter, That wasn't so much to ask, was it?" she asked, her eyes dark with pain.

  "No," Claire assured her. "It's far less than I wanted." She smiled, hoping to lighten Anna's heart. "I wanted the full fairy tale. I wanted the prince, the castle, and everything that came with it."

  "I wish you could have it all."

  "You too, Anna."

  "I don't even know what a good man is like," Anna said. "I honestly don't know anymore."

  "I suppose integrity would be at the top of the list," Claire said.

  "And honor."

  "He should be kind and show tenderness."

  "Definitely," Anna said. "And he should have a sense of humor."

  "I'd stir in a good dose of intelligence."

  "And add a big helping of romance."

  Claire smiled. "It wouldn't hurt if he was handsome."

  "And wealthy."

  They both smiled for the first time all evening.

  Anna pressed her hand to her chest. "And he absolutely must make you swoon in the bedroom."

  Laughter slipped from Claire before she could cover her mouth. Anna's outspokenness shocked her, but it was honest and freeing. It was wonderful to have someone to talk with, who understood how a simple, unguarded conversation could unshackle a person.

  Suddenly, Claire was glad that Anna was sitting in her kitchen. "You're welcome to stay, Anna. We can run my boardinghouse together. We'll close down the saloons, build up our business, and live like two old women who have earned the right to speak and live as they wish."

  "What a lovely idea." Anna's smile brightened the room. "Imagine the outrageous things we could get away with."

  "Life would be amusing, wouldn't it?"

  The haunted look stole back into Anna's eyes. "I couldn't imagine a life like that. To feel safe again, to have a friend, and to speak without fear. It really would be a fairy tale."

  "It shouldn't be."

  "I know." Her eyes misted. "You have no idea how much your friendship means to me."

  "Yes, I do," Claire said, for she'd been without a friend for years.

  o0o

  They spent Christmas Day working on a quilt Claire had just started. In the evening they made a small supper from the basket of food Boyd had brought Christmas Eve. Then they relaxed in the parlor, talking and dreaming about the life they would lead if they were wealthy men. They pounded their delicate fists on the coffee table and agreed that a woman was entitled to more say in her marriage and in controlling her own life.

  "We have a right to vote," Claire said, her indignant voice ringing through the parlor.

  "And a right to live without fear," Anna added. "We are human beings. We should not be considered our husbands' property."

  They spouted their dissatisfactions all Christmas evening and picked up again Friday morning, only stopping their diatribe when two men came to Claire's door wanting to rent her best two rooms. They were young businessmen who would need the rooms until Tuesday.

  Claire's spirits lifted knowing she would have some income for
the week. She and Anna went to the temperance meeting, then marched to the saloons. The sound of one hundred women singing hymns filled Claire with renewed purpose. But when she marched into Boyd's saloon, and was greeted by his burly, disgruntled bartender, his cold glare made Claire glad that they would be adjourning their marches until Tuesday. As soon as Mrs. Barker pleaded their case to the unresponsive wretch, they filed out.

  All Claire wanted was to get home to her warm kitchen and drink a hot cup of tea, but Desmona caught her arm and stopped her in the street. "Do introduce us to this lovely lady," she said, nodding toward Anna.

  Claire made brief introductions between Anna and Desmona's three daughters who were with her. "Where is Elizabeth?" she asked, to shift the attention away from Anna.

  Desmona humped her shoulders against the cold wind. "She took to her bed last night saying every bone in her body ached."

  Claire exchanged a look with Anna and knew they were both wondering if it was illness or a beating that had driven Elizabeth to bed.

  Guilt smote Claire for not doing more to help Elizabeth. But other than taking Elizabeth into her home, which she simply couldn't afford to do, what help could she offer? Elizabeth would have to find the courage to ask her family for help.

  o0o

  On Saturday morning Boyd arrived to fill Claire's wood bins. He came inside in a heavy barn jacket, a gray wool cap, and work boots. Claire thought he'd never looked more handsome.

  "Please tell your mother how much we enjoyed the food," she said. "I'm returning her basket with some tea cakes I made last night. You're welcome to eat a few."

  Boyd took the basket and peeked inside. "They smell great. I'll eat a couple for lunch."

  "Didn't you pack a sandwich?"

  He shook his head, his cheeks flushed with cold. "Never do. I'm usually too busy to eat. I'll wait until I get home."

  "You need to eat, especially when it's so cold out. I'll fix a sandwich for you to take along."

  "The tea cakes will be plenty."

  She ignored him and began slicing bread. "I have some of your mother's turkey left."

  He leaned his shoulder against the door. "You are stubborn, you know that?"

  "'Determined' is the word I prefer. Will the turkey be all right?"

  He gave her a warm smile and watched her make his sandwich. "I think you're beginning to care about me, Claire."

  "I'm returning your mother's kindness is all. She fed me. I'm feeding you."

  "Then you don't care about me?"

  She closed his sandwich, wrapped it, and handed it to him. "Of course I care about you. You're the man who fills my wood bins. I'll feed you to make sure you keep your strength."

  He laughed and tucked the sandwich in the basket. "I'm touched."

  She smiled, and realized she was enjoying their exchange. "We'll be eating the last of your mother's leftovers tonight. You're welcome to come for supper if you like."

  "Thank you, but I have another engagement this evening." His smile faded, and he glanced behind her. "Has Anna heard from her husband?"

  "No," she said, oddly disappointed that Boyd had turned down her invitation. She hadn't meant to invite him to supper, but now that she had, and he'd declined, the evening stretched ahead of her with little appeal. "As far as we know, Larry is still in jail."

  He nodded and opened the door. "I would suggest that Anna stay inside until Duke confirms that her husband is locked up."

  "If the sheriff can find out, it would be a huge relief to both of us."

  "I'll let you know as soon as he gets the telegram."

  "Thank you," she said. "And thanks for filling my bins."

  He lifted the basket and gave it a small shake. "I think I got the best bargain, but you're welcome. Let me know if you or Anna need anything."

  She locked the door behind him, then watched him cut through her snow-covered yard as he headed toward his family sawmill. She secretly hoped he'd stop back, but he didn't.

  She prepared a hearty lunch for her male guests, but scowled when they gulped it down then crossed the street to Boyd's saloon. By Saturday evening she and Anna were feeling imprisoned in the house.

  "We need to get out for a while, Anna."

  "Where can we go?"

  "How about the cantata at Union Hall?" There was so little left in Claire's money bag, it no longer mattered what she spent it on.

  Anna's face lit up. "It would be a lovely diversion."

  "Exactly. Let's get dressed so we can go early." She turned toward the stairs, but Anna caught her hand.

  "I can't go." Her face flushed. "I don't have any money."

  "I assumed that, Anna. I'll pay our admission."

  "No."

  "You can pay me back when your situation changes."

  "It won't change."

  "You can't know that." Claire hadn't believed her situation would change either, but it had. She was still poor and worried about money, but she had her freedom. "We need some recreation and pleasure, Anna. Come on." She hooked her arm around Anna's waist and drew the woman toward the stairs. "Let's pretend we're rich, independent women going out for an evening. We'll go to the cantata and forget about everything that makes us unhappy."

  "That would be men." Anna smiled and started up the stairs. "I suppose we are entitled to one night of enjoyment, aren't we?"

  "Absolutely. "

  "All right, then. We'll go, but I intend to return your kindness when I'm able to do so."

  "You can do that right now." Claire stopped in the hallway. "Dress my hair for me and we'll be even. I loathe doing it."

  "Really?"

  "Really."

  Anna followed Claire to her bedchamber dressing table.

  Thirty minutes later Anna pressed her palms together, her face beaming with excitement as she eyed the waterfall of ringlets cascading down the back of Claire's head and shoulders. "I have just the thing to complement your hair."

  She hurried out of the room, then returned carrying a hair comb with a cluster of blue sapphires on it.

  "My grandfather gave this to me, but the sapphires get lost against my brown hair. I told Larry I lost it so he wouldn't sell it, but I've kept it hidden in my reticule."

  "I can't wear this, Anna."

  "Sure you can."

  "It's too expensive. I couldn't bear it if I lost it."

  "You won't lose it."

  "Your grandfather gave this to you."

  "He won't be at the cantata."

  Claire laughed. "That's not the point and you know it."

  "Let me do this," Anna said, her voice earnest. "Please. It looks beautiful in your hair and it makes me feel good to share something so special with you."

  This was all Anna could offer, the only gift she could freely give. Claire's eyes misted. "This is...thank you, Anna. I'm honored to wear it."

  Anna stepped away from the dressing table and peeked in Claire's closet. "Wear this blue velvet gown. It'll look gorgeous with the sapphires."

  "All right, but you must borrow a dress from me." Claire dug through the closet and retrieved an emerald poplin and silk gown that had belonged to her grandmother. Her grandmother had worn it once each year the day after Thanksgiving. She'd never told Claire why the gown was special, but she'd kept it cleaned and protected for over fifty years. When Claire had found it in the closet, she'd considered using the sicilienne material to make her own gown, but hadn't been able to ruin her grandmother's favorite dress.

  "It's not the current fashion," she said, "but if we add a flounce crinoline petticoat it may suffice."

  "It's lovely as it is." Anna caught the soft fabric between her fingers and slowly drew her hands down the length of the skirt. A wide band of black velvet adorned the hem, and inserts of black velvet graced each side of the skirt, ending in two points. "I've never owned something so beautiful."

  "My grandmother called it her magic dress. I don't know why, but maybe it'll bring you some magic tonight."

  Anna sighed. "I
could certainly use it."

  "It should fit you. My grandmother was tiny like you."

  "It'll fit. I can tell just by looking." She clasped it to her bosom. "Are you sure you want me to wear it?"

  "Positive." Claire sensed that her grandmother would approve of Anna wearing her special gown. Claire's own dress was more current, but not elaborate in style. The tunic was made of sapphire-blue velvet, with matching pomponnette velvet for the skirt.

  Anna dressed her own hair, then they helped each other into their gowns. When Anna pulled on the emerald-colored dress, Claire stared at her.

  "I can see why my grandmother called that her magic dress. You're beautiful, Anna."

  Anna's eyes misted and she smoothed her palms down the bodice. "I can almost feel pretty again."

  The bruises on Anna's arms were covered by the long fitted sleeves, but a hint of yellow still rode her cheekbone where Claire suspected Larry had struck her. No woman with such bruises could feel beautiful; Claire knew that firsthand. To see Anna take such pleasure in wearing the gown filled Claire's heart with both joy and pain. Anna was beautiful. She shouldn't need a dress to make her feel that way.

  "You are pretty, Anna. And you deserve to wear beautiful dresses and go out for an enjoyable evening'." Claire curtsied to her friend, hoping to lighten the evening. "Let's dance our way to the cantata."

  A tender smile tipped Anna's lips.

  "Come along." Claire fanned her skirt and twirled in a circle. "We're going dancing," she said, dipping and swaying as she swept into the hallway and descended the stairs.

  Anna followed her into the foyer.

  "We can dance down Main Street," Claire said, taking their coats from the closet.

  Anna finally laughed.

  Claire's heart lifted. As hard as her life with Jack had been, she had survived without too many scars. Anna's situation was far more painful because Larry was still alive.

  Claire handed Anna's coat to her. "Let's pretend we are rich, independent women tonight. We can do or say anything we like."

  "Let's do it." Anna buttoned her coat and waltzed onto the porch with forced gaiety.

  They left the house and chatted all the way to Union Hall.

  Claire paid their admission and reminded herself not to think about her last eight dollars. She could worry about her desperate circumstances tomorrow. Tonight she wanted to escape her past and her present, to exist in a place of safety and joy.