“Whatever would you do, Mr. York, if I ever said yes?”
Kell bolted upright from the bed. “Did I hear … wait, damn you! Annie. Muldoon!” The door slammed in his face. He was tempted to wrench it open and go after her. He threw back his head and laughed. So she wanted to know what he’d do, did she? “Oh, darlin’, my darlin’ Annie, you’re going to find out.”
He timed his entrance into the dining room when Annie would be almost done with serving. She had her back toward him when he took a chair at the far corner table, sitting with his back to the wall. It was an old habit—to place himself with a full view of the room, as well as the doors—and one he’d never broken. The lone drummer engaged her in conversation, obviously reluctant to let her go.
Annie’s laughter alerted Kell again to the change in her. She started to move back to the kitchen, and he had a clear look at the man. Slick pomaded dark hair and a gaze filled with male calculation watching Annie’s hip-swaying walk made Kell stifle a possessive urge to yank his darlin’ out of sight.
The drummer glanced at Kell and, hearing the door close behind him, said, “Better try your luck at the tent outside of town.” He raised a wine glass filled with pale yellow liquid in a toast and drank it down.
Kell smiled with satisfaction. “Yeah, you do that. The doves are accommodatin’ an’ the whiskey the best to be found.” And leave Annie to me.
From his thought to presence, she pushed through the kitchen door, gaze intent on the change she carried to the drummer. But Kell had a feeling she had seen him and deliberately ignored him. The man left, and Kell asked for his meal.
“Pork roast, green beans, and biscuits,” Annie answered, clearing off the table.
“Fine. And bring me a glass of that wine the drummer had.”
“Wine?” Annie looked over at him.
“Yeah, Annie. Wine.” He wondered at her doubtful look before she nodded.
“It will take a few minutes.”
“I’m not going anywhere. But remember, I’m hungry.”
“Not likely to forget that,” she tossed back and disappeared into the kitchen.
Kell had the room to himself. He wasn’t in any hurry to get back to the site, since the lumber he’d ordered wouldn’t arrive until late afternoon. Most of his meals had been eaten on the run or up in his room, so this was the first time he had allowed himself to study the various samplers hanging on the walls.
Most were rules that he read with a half-smile creasing his lips. All began with do not: spit on the table or on the floor, drink from the saucer, lift meat to your nose to sniff, use the fork or knife to clean your teeth at the table, use the linen to blow your nose. But it was two older ones that reminded him he had to do something about Annie’s prissy ways. The cloth yellowed with age, letters faded so he had to squint to read brought his chuckle. “Put not thy hand in the presence of others to any body part not ordinarily discovered.”
Annie came out carrying a full plate and a wine glass.
Kell waited until she served him, making a trip back to the kitchen for a small pitcher. “Don’t run off, Annie. You can’t have a rule about joining me.”
She offered an absent sort of a smile and poured liquid into his glass, then stood back.
“I do want to talk to you about—”
“Try the house wine,” she encouraged.
Doubtful of the expectant look in her eyes, Kell lifted the glass to his lips, frowning at the cloudy color. He wouldn’t put it past Annie’s prissed-up spinster ways to serve him piss-warm leavings to get even with him.
He sipped. “Wine, hell!” he bellowed, spitting it out. “This is lemonade.”
“Yes, Mr. York, that’s right.” Annie backed away and smiled, nearly choking on her laughter. “That’s the house wine of the South. And please, if you want to dine here again, follow the rules.” Pointing to the sampler over his head, Annie made good her escape when he tilted his chair back and twisted his head to look up.
“Drink is a sin against the Lord and leagues one with the devil. We serve none.” Kell turned back to look at the closed kitchen door. He could still hear her laughing. “You won this hand, Annie, but I’ll have a sweeter dessert,” he murmured and then relished every slow bite of his food.
He was nearly done when Annie came back, hurrying with a pile of towels filling her arms. “Li’s in the kitchen. I think he wants you.”
Kell gave her message a moment’s thought. Li could wait. He hadn’t finished his meal.
Annie raced up the stairs, wishing the flirting business did not include removing herself from Kell’s presence. She would have loved to sit with him while he ate, but Ruby had been firm about the first rule. Tease and retreat. Setting the stack of clean towels on the marbletop stand, Annie took the few that were left on the shelf and placed them on top. She had just straightened and was about to rub the ache in her back when her stomach lurched. Kell was near. Her body tensed as anxiety pressed in and the cause of it moved closer. His breath skimmed the top of her head, and her scalp prickled with awareness.
“You’re a poor hostess, Muldoon,” he murmured in a soft, oh, so soft, caressing tone. “You didn’t offer me anything sweet for dessert.”
The edge of the stand offered help to steady her and Annie eagerly grabbed hold of it. “There’s pie.”
“What kind?” he whispered, kissing her nape.
“You can’t … go around kissing me wherever and whenever—”
“I’m in a mood for lemon pie, Annie. Sugar sweet lemon pie. And the only way I can get to taste that,” he informed her, gently making her face him, “is to kiss you.”
His mouth fully covered hers, and Annie forgot all the lessons she had repeated and vowed to put into practice. When he had her toes curling and her heavy lids barely able to lift to see his blistering smile, he broke the kiss and with one gentle finger, tilted her head to the side and nibbled her neck.
Remember your vow, Annie. You are going to burn his boots off. “More,” she whispered.
“I really did want to thank you,” Kell whispered between kisses rimming the dainty shape of her ear, “for your staunch support in letting the doves stay.”
Since Annie was draped against him like a sheet on a bed, her murmuring agreement was true. “As I am for yours.”
Kell slid his hands around her waist and lifted her to sit on the marble stand’s top. His lips sought hers just as his hips nestled between her parted thighs.
“You wanted to talk,” she managed as soon as he lifted his head.
“Yes. I had the thought.” Kell angled his head back, and Annie placed a kiss on his chin. He drew her closer, stroking the slender length of her back, loving the small sounds she made. It crossed his mind that Annie was not behaving like a prickly hedgehog but was being quite accommodating to his every move.
“You make me feel sinful, Kell.” And she smiled before boldly dragging her fingers through his hair to bring his mouth to hers.
Alarm from the crick in his neck made the kiss brief. “Is that what this is all about, Annie? You’re curious about all this sin you keep preaching against? Must be,” he answered himself, watching her drowsy bluebell eyes open to his. “You talk about it, you harp on it, you even dare the devil and make him sin.”
His words drifted through the sensual cloud with the thickness of honey. Annie merely smiled. Just like the doves said, this was easy. Her fingers played against his nape and the damp length of his hair. “Are you warm? Why do you talk about sin,” she asked, nuzzling his throat, “when you sell sin?”
“Sell sin?” Kell narrowed his eyes. His grin was slow, but it kicked up the corner of his mouth. “Honey,” he drawled, gripping her upper arms and holding her away from him. “I don’t sell sin. I don’t promote sin. I’m sinful, I’ll admit. Have a heap of sinful thoughts about you and won’t deny it. I’ve even done my share of sinful deeds and right now, darlin’, I’m all for putting all this sinnin
g to good use.” He drew her close, tilting his head, her startled eyes blurring as he kicked closed the door to the bath room. “Have I told you that I changed my mind?”
“Your … mind?” Panic set in. She was supposed to control the how and when and where of kissing him. Her grip on his hair tightened, but that didn’t stop him from brushing his lips against hers.
“I don’t want lemon, sugared or not. Annie. Annie, you’ve got the most luscious, cherry-red lips, made for kissin’.”
Do the unexpected! The advice saved her. Annie caught his bottom lip between her teeth. Kell shifted closer, his hands rubbing up and down her thighs. For a moment she was swimming in the heated sensations of his touch and the swift rise of tension so that she all but forgot what she was supposed to do next. Tease him. Flirt. Seduce … Annie jerked her head back.
“I can’t do this. It’s all wrong.”
“Practice, darlin’. I promise you’ll have it perfect before long.”
He muffled her protest with a kiss that send need rocking through his body. Kneading her hips, he dragged her closer to the edge of the stand, the move spreading her thighs to the fit of his. She made those passionate moaning sounds that told more of her want than she could ever put into words. Kell stroked up her sides and nearly groaned at the perfect way her breasts filled his palms. He could hear the pounding of his heart when Annie slid the tip of her tongue over his lip, then shyly retreated.
Breaking the kiss to coax her, Kell heard another pounding and let loose a growl of frustration.
“Annie. Annie, you in there?”
Hearing Li, Kell lifted her to stand on her feet and fought his need to do murder. Flinging open the door, he shot a look back at Annie, who stood gripping the stand. “This had better be good,” he all but growled to Li.
“Oh, it is for a very good reason that I seek her. Your cat has taken his prey into the parlor and frightened your aunt. He refuses to give up his mouse, and she has demanded that you be found, Annie.”
Rioting senses quickly cooled. Annie sent one long look of regret in Kell’s direction, unable to meet his furious gaze. Despite the aching need of her body, she knew this had happened for the best. It was becoming harder and harder to say no.
Kell stepped out into the hallway and, like Li, watched her go.
“You know, Li, I understand exactly how that old tomcat feels.”
“You do?” All innocence, Li stepped away from him. He knew that soft, ingratiating voice. It boded ill for him.
“Oh, yes,” Kell said, leaning against the doorframe. “He feels possessive. And he’s angry that he’s being cheated of his catch.”
“Ah, so. I would not have thought of this. Perhaps it would be best if I go help Annie.”
“You do that, Li. Although, in my opinion, you’ve helped her enough today. And Li,” he warned as the man walked quickly toward the stairs and far from him, “I’ll go hunting the pigtail the next time.”
Li spun around and held his braid out to the side. More than once in the towns that they had drifted in and out of over the years they had been together, Li had been chased by men bent on doing that very thing. He saw that Kell had not moved, but for all the underlying warning in Kell’s voice, the fury was absent.
“You no likee,” Li singsonged. “You bad white devil takee hatchet to chinee man’s pride and joy.”
“Remember that, my friend, for the next time you put mine between a rock and a hard place.”
“A wise man would tell you to marry her, Kell, and so end the—”
“Marry? Me?” Kell started after Li. “Marry her?”
Li took the steps in agile leaps, never once looking back to see if Kell followed him.
He didn’t. He stood at the top of the stairs and tried to laugh it off. “Marry Annie Muldoon.” Ridiculous. This was the first sign that Li’s mind was fermenting into mush from all the opium he had been forced to use.
As if he wanted to marry anyone! Shaking his head, Kell returned to his room. It was just a thought too funny for words. He was a free man and all for keeping himself that way. So what if Annie was turning out to be curious about pleasure between a man and woman? It wasn’t enough to get him trapped. So why wasn’t he laughing?
Chapter 16
Frustration strengthens resolve—Annie’s new motto after three days of not seeing Kell and of being unable to get her ladies group to support her efforts of redemption for the doves.
She could not tease, flirt, or attempt to seduce a man she could not find. Much as Annie hated to admit it, Laine had been right. Kell was harder to bring to heel than the wind. Li had taken to bringing Kell his meals during the day while they worked unceasingly with hired hands to rebuild the gambling house. She couldn’t even thank him for sending the supply drivers to the boardinghouse to eat. She had a nagging suspicion that Kell deliberately came back to bathe and change for the evening while she was busy serving supper.
Why was Kell avoiding her when he had her on the verge of capitulation and her emotional state swinging from high to low? And in the evenings, while she paced and plotted or fell into an exhausted sleep only to dream about Kell, he was gambling the night away in the tent outside of town. Annie’s mornings began early, just when Kell came home for a few hours of sleep. Then he would be gone again.
A lesser woman would simply have given up. Punching down the bread dough this blessedly cooler Thursday morning, Annie determined that she was made of stem principles, stubborn backbone and an awakened desire that interfered with everything she had to do.
Today had to be better. Forgetting to mix the yeast in the warmed water was not a sign that the day would go badly. She stopped her kneading. Was she now absorbing some of Kell’s gambler’s superstitions? No. She knew better.
But from the moment that she had bodily hauled a protesting Dewberry from the parlor with his mouse—prey that she was certain the cat had brought in from the field to torment her for lack of attention, calmed her aunt with a double dose of her tonic, and taken Fawn for her promised dress fitting, Monday was a day to forget.
She and Fawn had surprised Bronc coming out from Emmaline’s private quarters behind the dress shop. His hurried greeting served as a confirmation that what Charity had said was true. Bronc courted her. And if Annie needed any more proof, her friend’s bee-stung lips and bright eyes gave her that. After all, Annie had seen the same look in her own mirror enough times since Kell had taken up residence in the boardinghouse.
Once she had explained what Fawn wanted made with her new material, Annie attempted to gain her friend’s support.
Just the thought of Emmaline’s rigid stance was enough for Annie to attack the bread dough with renewed anger. The woman wanted Kell and his entourage gone from Loving, and no amount of reasoning, no pleading on Annie’s part had been able to shake Emmaline from her high-and-mighty perch. Annie had thought to point out that if Kell left, he would likely take Bronc with him, but such meanness was beyond her.
Tuesday she had called on Ruth McQuary to renew her aunt’s tonic and state her cause to enlist Ruth’s aid. That woman’s parting comment still smarted.
“Tell me, would she, that I’d have as much success turning those women respectable as Abner fooling with his compounds would in finding the secret of making gold? I’ll show her. I’ll show them all.”
Having worked herself into a sweat, Annie let the dough rest and herself along with it. She wiped her hands on a damp towel and went out the back door. With a sigh she leaned against the porch post. It seemed hopeless.
Visiting Lucinda yesterday afternoon had been another wasted effort. Lucinda’s lecture that she was too young, even if they had voted her president of the legion, to understand the consequences of her action. She at least had been kind in pointing out that Annie’s opposing view caused them all grave concern.
There had been a time, just a few short weeks ago, when Annie would have gladly relinquished her position.
Trying to walk a middle line and do what she believed was right, yet keep the friends she had known all her life, left her in a quandary.
If only there were someone she could turn to for help.
“Annie. Annie Charlotte.”
She turned to smile at Hortense and went back inside the kitchen.
“Bread’s near ready for baking,” Hortense announced after poking her finger in the dough. She pulled out a chair and sat down, peering up at her niece. “You’re troubled, girl.”
“The ladies group—”
“Ah, yes, those dear ladies. You didn’t like what they had to say, did you?”
“They’re wrong. I just know that with time and patience I could help these women.”
“You’ve a stubborn streak near as wide as your dear departed mama’s. She set her cap for your papa and wouldn’t settle for anyone else. Reformed him, made our papa accept him and married the man she wanted. Pity she couldn’t see how you turned out.”
Annie having heard this before, continued with shaping the dough to fit her greased bread pans, nodding as her aunt reminisced, worrying over her problems.
“Well, answer me, girl.”
“About what?”
“Whose the deaf one around here?” Hortense demanded.
“I’m sorry, Aunt.”
“Get your pans in the oven and then sit down.” Hortense waited until she did so, then adjusted her spectacles and studied her niece. “You’re working yourself to a frazzle. You need to find yourself a husband. And what I asked you, Annie Charlotte, is Mr. York your chosen one?”
“Aunt!”
“Don’t ‘Aunt’ me. Just answer me, girl. After all, I’m the only family you’ve got. The man will need to be spoken to. Someone has to ask what his intentions are.”
“You don’t want to know,” Annie muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” Hortense asked, leaning over the table. “You don’t fool me none, girl. I’m a bit hard of hearing and my eyesight’s a mite frayed, but I’m not ready for a pine box. I see and hear more than you know of what’s been going on.”
Darling Annie Page 19
