Darling Annie

by Raine Cantrell

  “Wantin’ a man ain’t nothin’ to be shamed ’bout. ’Less he don’t want you. The good Lord made a woman like he did so’s she could have her pleasurin’, too.”

  “Pleasuring, Cammy?” Annie couldn’t help the disbelief that filled her voice. “But the women I know, I mean there’s very little talk about what exactly a woman is supposed to do. But I never heard anyone mention pleasure.” Biting her lip, hesitating, Annie knew she had to make a full confession. “Kell keeps talking about pleasure.”

  “Landsakes, Annie!” Ruby starting laughing, then stopped. “If a man like Kell crooked his little finger in my direction, I’d be on my back faster than a match gets lit.”

  “Put wishes like that in a thimble, Ruby,” Daisy said with a sigh. “He’s turned Laine down more times than I can count.”

  “Laine? Wants Kell?”

  “Don’t worry, Annie. He doesn’t want anything to do with her. Wouldn’t be right anyhow,” Ruby explained, patting Annie’s hand. “She and Kyle had a thing going for a long while. Now, we’re going to tell you what we know. Maybe our way won’t be as pretty as you’d be used to hearing, but there’s plenty of satisfied customers between us coming back for more.”

  The exchange that followed was at times confusing to Annie, since each women had her own opinion to voice, often edging Annie toward shock as the detailed descriptions and variations left nothing to her imagination. Nothing, that is, but the true state of ignorance that women of her acquaintance were kept in. Within thirty minutes she stopped blushing and flinching at the frank terms for body parts, all the unmentionable ones that had never been a part of her vocabulary. She was treated to giggles and laughter, and a great many sighs as incidents were recalled that had left behind fond memories.

  When a breathless and pink-cheeked Charity arrived, she barely hesitated at seeing Annie there. Dreamy-eyed, she explained she had spent the afternoon and most of the early evening with Jessup Beamer, who wanted to take her away from all this.

  As the excited cries and hugs stopped, Charity sadly told them that it wasn’t likely to happen any time soon. She wanted a little ranch of her own, and Jessup didn’t have much put aside from his monthly wages.

  Li’s knock hushed them as he called out that the wagon was in back and ready to go.

  One by one, the doves fussed a bit and turned to leave.

  “Blossom,” Annie said, “if you don’t feel well, why not stay? I’ll make you tea.”

  “You’re real sweet, Annie. But Li’ll bring me back if I can’t deal. Ain’t up to more’n that.”

  Ruby had a last bit of whispered of advice. “Honey, you think hard about what you learned. Try it out, and I swear you’ll leave Kell with an Irish toothache that’ll have him on his knees.”

  But it was Charity who lingered behind the others and sent Annie into a spin. “Jessup and me saw that widow friend of yours with Bronc. They was walking along the lane holding hands. Bet Bronc’s sweet on her. They all meant well with what they was telling you, Annie, but when you’re in love with a man it’s just different.”

  “Oh, but I’m not—”

  Charity’s dimpled smile cut her off, and she closed the door behind her, leaving Annie shaking her head, denying the only thing that made sense.

  She was falling in love with Kellian York.

  She couldn’t be in love with him!

  The thought was so shocking that Annie began to straighten the room without realizing what she was doing. Picking up a pillow to fluff, she hugged it tight.

  Redeemable Kell would never again make vague remarks, then tell her she didn’t understand. If she put just a little of what she had learned tonight into practice the next time they were alone, he would know she had the perfect cure for his Irish toothache, even if she wasn’t ready to act on it. She’d wanted information, and now she had an abundance of it. She’d show him who was an innocent.

  The next time. And with that possibility in mind, still hugging the pillow, Annie went to her room.

  She never saw the shadowed form on the stairs, flattened against the wall. Annie, in her blissful dreaming, remained unaware of the bitterness and hate that was aimed at her back.

  Chapter 15

  Monday was washday. Annie’s least-favorite chore, and as she scrubbed towels against the washboard, Annie wondered who had begun the ritual of beginning the week with laundry. Swiping a hand dripping with suds over her sweat-sheened brow, Annie refused to look at the piles still waiting for her. All over the town, sheets and union suits were flapping in a sultry breeze that promised a scorching day.

  So it was an hour later, after the sheets were hung to dry, that Annie found herself bewildered when Aunt Hortense came to the back door and called her from her labor.

  “My dear child, what have you done this time?” Hortense began, shaking her head. “The ladies have come to call and are in the parlor.”

  “Ladies? What ladies?”

  “Abigail, Lucinda, Velma, and Emmaline. They want to talk to you. And I might warn you, Annie Charlotte, they look madder than wet hens. Puffed up like a few old sitting ones, too.”

  “But it’s Monday!”

  Looking out at the yard, Hortense blinked, then nodded. “Why, so it is. Come along, dear. I admit I’m curious what brought them away from their own wash lines. But do put on a fresh apron, Annie. You’re all wet.”

  “That’s too bad. If they can come to call at the wrong time while I’m working, they’ll make do with my appearance.”

  Annie didn’t wait for her aunt. Something must have happened to bring them here. Something that she was going to be lectured about. The feeling that her thought was true was confirmed the moment she opened the parlor door. Pockets was in the back parlor playing the piano, a tune that brought a smile to Annie but obviously found no favor with the four women facing her.

  From Abigail’s frown to Lucinda’s tut-tut sounds of disapproval, Annie gazed at Velma’s pursed lips and sought an answer and support from Emmaline. But she couldn’t look at Annie.

  “Ladies. It must be something very important for you to call on washday. And so early,” she reminded them, annoyed by their lack of greeting. Perversely, Annie folded her arms over her chest and stood there, waiting until her temper cooled.

  “Annie, dear, do close the door,” Lucinda suggested. “What we have to say should be kept private.”

  “Oh? And why is that? The whole town knows you have come to call. Far too early, I remind you. Why mustn’t anyone hear what you have to say?”

  “Oh, dear, I was afraid that you would be put out with us,” Velma said. “But please, Annie, do come and sit. I’m getting a crick in my neck twisting around to see you.”

  “All right.” Annie turned and saw her aunt hovering near the dining room. “Coming, Aunt Hortense?” she yelled, and was dismayed when her aunt shook her head. It was just as well, she thought, closing the door and moving to take the chair near the window. If they had to shout and repeat everything for her aunt to understand, these women would never get to the point.

  “We’ve interrupted your wash,” Emmaline said, squirming in her place on the settee. “I had finished mine when Velma summoned me to join her and—”

  “I’m sure you did, Emmaline, but please remember, my dear friend, that you live alone and I wash for a full boardinghouse.”

  “You should make that little Indian girl do the heavy work, Annie. Let her earn her keep here.”

  “Abigail, I appreciate your concern,” Annie replied with an overabundance of sweetness. “I assure you that Fawn does indeed earn her keep.” She knew that Abigail was miffed about the miner having turned down her offer to buy Fawn. If Annie had not been in the store that day and heard the pitiful amount that Abigail had offered and impulsively doubled it, Fawn would have gone from one slaveholder to another. She could never make any of them understand that she didn’t think of owning Fawn. She had offered her a home and taught her w
hatever skills she could, as well as educated her.

  But Annie was not going to let them distract her from why they had come here. “Will one of you explain the reason for this visit? Emmaline?”

  “Lucinda will speak for all of us.”

  “My dear Annie, this is a matter of grave concern for us. When the men were caught up in their foolishness the morning of the fire and threatened to hang you because you rose to the need and assumed leadership of our legion, we stood behind your decision to take those people in. But the time has come when you must make them leave.”

  “We supported you then,” Velma and Abigail chorused.

  “And what, may I ask, has changed? I explained to Emmaline my reasons. I am able to contribute to our church building fund which, much as it grieves me to say, very few have been doing.” Annie stood up and studied each face by turns. They had come in full battle finery, hats and gloves, and borrowing from Kell’s favorite description of them, they were a rigid corset contingent of do-gooders. Annie didn’t even realize that she was aligning herself opposite them. They had come into her home to tell her what to do. That raised one battle flag. The second was out before she stopped herself.

  “And where were the four of you when I spoke yesterday?”

  “Why, here. You know we were here, Annie.”

  “Yes. You were here, Lucinda. You all were, but did one of you listen to what I said? We have an opportunity to take these women and show them a better way. Why won’t you help me?”

  “This charitable notion is to your credit,” Velma said when the silence became uncomfortable. “But we have spoken with other members of our group, and they feel as we do. You must ask them to leave.”

  “If they have no place to stay, Annie, that man would reconsider his plans to rebuild that awful place.”

  “Emmaline! You expect me to throw them out, too? Why are you doing this now? Why didn’t you all say something from the start? And as far as my charitable notion is concerned, Velma, you are wrong. I believe in what I’m doing—hear that, ladies—what I am going to accomplish.” Annie couldn’t get to the door fast enough, but then she turned. “And I will do it with or without your help. Good day.”

  Annie swept into the lobby, only to stop. Pockets stood near the back parlor door. From his frown, she knew he had heard. His cigar, unlit of course, since Annie had made her no smoking within the walls of her boardinghouse rule clear, was clenched between his yellowed front teeth. At a sound she glanced up and found the doves arranged on the stairs, even an angry-looking Laine. Thankfully, no one wore a sheet this morning, even if their wrappers were scanty and could hardly be considered decent.

  Undecided about saying anything, Annie nearly laughed when Pockets swept her a bow.

  But she lost her smile when he softly said, “You are a truly gracious lady Miss Muldoon. Misguided, but a lady.”

  “Why, thank you, Pockets. And I do apologize to all my boarders for the early-morning disturbance. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I have laundry to finish and lunch to serve.”

  She ignored the shocked gasps behind her.

  Lucinda’s “Well, I never!” followed by Abigail’s “What else did you expect?” to Velma’s “We need to have another meeting, ladies.”

  What hurt Annie the most was Emmaline’s silence.

  Silence was not Kell’s reaction when Li told him what had happened. After he had exhausted every curse, every swear and even borrowed a few of Li’s, only to find that his temper still wanted satisfaction, Kell decided he would call on those ladies.

  Li’s cooler head prevailed. “They will not listen to you. I told you Pockets said she tickled their ivories with a rousing tune that earned his approval. And that of the doves as well, to judge by their talk.”

  “Plaguing old biddies! As if I don’t have a plateful to deal with. It’s enough to send a man to the bottle.”

  “You already drink enough.”

  “Thanks for the reminder, old wise one. Then I’ll start smoking again.”

  “Forgive your most humble servant asking, but why are you angry? The woman is nothing to you. Or was that the bottle who spoke to me last night?”

  “Woman? Who?”

  “Annie.”

  It was the soft, knowing intonation in Li’s voice saying her name that snapped a leash on Kell’s temper. “You’re right,” he agreed in a calm voice. “And it wasn’t the bottle but me talking last night. It’s nothing to me what Muldoon does with her bunch of do-gooders.”

  Kell turned back to marking off the new, larger floor plan of the building. Li stood and watched him lay out the floor beams with a sharp eye that allowed no room for error. He gave a passing through to telling his friend about the intriguing conversation that Annie had had with the doves.

  He thought about it. He thought about Kell’s denial. And he recalled Kell’s favorite words: “If a man is so blind not to see high stakes, he deserves to be taken. It’s his misfortune and none of my own.”

  Li went back to work. Annie might be a greenhorn, but she could have beginner’s luck.

  Luck is not what Annie called it when Cammy arrived just as she was getting ready to serve and asked for hot water for Kell to wash. Annie was not ready to see him, and after the disturbing incident with her friends this morning she felt the edges of her temper fraying. But Cammy reminded her of their talk, and how a woman had to take advantage of any chances that came her way.

  Armed with his laundry and a pitcher of hot water, she headed up to his room. Laine was sauntering down and stopped her.

  “I heard you had a talk with the girls last night.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I warned you once, and you didn’t listen. You might as well whistle for the wind as set your cap for Kell. He’s six feet of trouble, but all of it’s a man. Just remember this. Like the wind, Kell won’t come to heel worth a damn.”

  “I will once again take your sage advice to heart, Laine.” Annie continued on her way, but she felt the power of Laine’s gaze follow her.

  Laine’s warning made Annie remember that she had been told before of Laine’s interest in Kell. Did he return it, despite the doves’ saying he didn’t?

  Annie’s hands were full, so she used the heel of her shoe to tap against Kell’s door. In the few moments she waited, Annie bolstered her courage by repeating the less outrageous instructions she had been given.

  Kell opened the door. “I hoped it would be you.”

  Far from an encouraging smile, Annie saw his scowl. Oh, well, simpering was an art she had never mastered. “And why is that?”

  “I’m hot and tired and hungry. There’s a rule around here that says I can’t come into the dining room unless I’m clean and dressed. Tell me, Muldoon, do you stand by the door and inspect every pair of hands before you let them eat?”

  Annie sailed past him and set his laundry on the chair. His hair still looked like a hot wind had combed it, and she could see he was tired by the way he rubbed the back of his neck. Annie forgot about flirting with him.

  “I can tell you’re hungry,” she said, pouring the water into the washbowl and turning around. “You couldn’t wait to take a bite out of me.”

  She was rewarded by his perplexed frown, and then his equally perplexing laughter. “There’s an intriguing thought.” Kell flung himself on the bed and locked his hands together beneath his head. It was one way to stop the temptation of putting his hands on her. There was something about her … Her hair. No braids tightly coiled, but a softer upsweep that had her looking like a woman who fixed her hair so a man could mess it up.

  “I heard what went on here with your good ladies.”

  “Think nothing of it. I did what I thought was right. Besides,” she added, smiling at him, “how could I bear to be without your charming company?”

  “And the money I pay you.”

  Annie slowly gazed at the tips of his dusty boots and leaned back against the
edge of the washstand. She took courage to try a simple lesson since the door was still open and she could run fast. So her look reflected the judgment any good housewife gave merchandise she intended to buy, and she inspected Kell from ankle to hip.

  “Annie.”

  She didn’t respond to the note of underlying warning but lingered over the fit of his dirt-smudged shirt, noting a small tear in the sleeve and the way a drop of sweat pooled in the hollow of his golden-brown throat. It was a reflex to lick her bottom lip, but it also reminded her that she had only fragile walls to shield her from the temptation he presented.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “A little tit for tat?” she answered, distracted by the tightening ripple of his arm muscles.

  “You’d better leave while you can, darlin’.”

  Wide-eyed with innocence, Annie met his gaze. “But I’m only doing what you pay for, Mr. York. Service includes clean laundry,” she said, airily waving toward the pile on the chair. Do it, Annie. Just try.

  “And water. I supplied the hot … water.”

  The breathy little catch in her voice sent an alarm that once again had a perplexed frown marring Kell’s face. Hot. What the devil had gotten into Annie Muldoon? And the devil answered—it wasn’t you.

  Kell smiled. It wasn’t wicked. It was downright nasty.

  “Full of sugar traps this morning? Guess I’d better nibble carefully on you. Skitter on out of my room, Annie, before I offer to plant your sweet little tail in my bed and do some servicing of my own.”

  Annie barely managed to still the heat that flooded her. She ordered herself to the door, placed one trembling hand on the knob and started to draw it closed behind her. If you run, she warned herself, you’ll never have the courage to tease him again. Annie glanced over her shoulder and mustered confidence from his blatantly aroused body.