"You didn't get Wrangler until you moved here then?" Annie asked.
"Actually we found him on the way from Illinois," he replied. "We stopped over at a stage station near Wichita and Gil bought him from a trader for me."
"A Swedish Warmblood," she said.
Luke raised his brows. “You remembered that?''
She nodded and changed the subject. “Your Uncle Gil sounds nice."
"He is. You'll have to meet him."
"I'd like that."
Charmaine glanced from Luke to Annie curiously.
Annie's face turned pink and she looked down at her hands. What had been said that had embarrassed her?
She glanced up again, and the cousins exchanged a look.
Annie's gaze turned to other patrons in the room, and Luke followed her glance. Five or six other tables were filled, mostly town people he knew because he did business with them.
She was obviously wondering who would notice them together and take the news back to her family.
The door opened and closed.
"Annie," Charmaine whispered, "it's Mary Lou with her parents and that awful brother of hers." Charmaine almost squirmed in delight. She sat up straighter, and Luke wondered what was so exciting about the arrival of the people she'd mentioned.
A glance told him it was Daniel Holister with his wife and children. The girl, Charmaine's age, stared wide-eyed at. their trio. Luke smiled politely and her cheeks turned crimson.
Dora brought their meals, and the attention moved to the savory roast beef and new potatoes.
"Annie's mother has someone to help with the cooking, but my mother only has me," Charmaine said. "You don't know how nice it is to eat away from home."
"Sure I do," Luke replied. "I get tired of food out of tins, so I eat over here a lot."
"What's your favorite dessert?" Charmaine asked, glancing at the chalkboard on a wall.
"Apple pie." It had become his favorite when Annie had baked one just for him. And since she'd said his kisses tasted like cinnamon. He couldn't repress a smile at the memory.
Annie wouldn't meet his eyes. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and folded it into a neat square.
"Annie, you're positively scarlet!" Charmaine said, and touched her cousin's cheek with the back of her fingers. "Are you feeling well?"
Annie caught Charmaine's wrist and lowered their hands to the tabletop. "I'm fine. Can we change the subject?"
"From apple pie?" Her voice held puzzlement.
A laugh worked its way up from Luke's chest and he tried to hold it back by taking a sip of coffee. But Annie's red face and Charmaine's quizzical look struck him so funny that the laugh rumbled out, and he choked.
He coughed to cover his amusement, making the situation worse, and covered his mouth with his napkin.
Annie leaned sideways in her chair and slapped her palm against the center of his back a few times. "Are you all right?"
He glanced down at the warm touch of her other hand on his forearm, able to think of nothing but her hand on him.
She caught herself and snatched it back.
"Yes, thanks," he managed to reply finally.
She met his eyes then, and leaning close this way, he could see the tiny green flecks that circled her gray irises like sunbursts. Her brows were delicately shaped and tinged with red like her hair, her lashes a spiky fringe.
His focus lowered to her mouth, a lovely smooth pink bow with a full lower lip. He'd kissed those lips.
The corners twitched. She was fighting laughter now, too.
She chuckled and straightened, pulling away from him. One glance at her cousin and laughter spilled out.
Luke joined her, and they laughed until his side hurt.
Charmaine glanced around the room with a halfhearted smile.
Finally, the mirth subsided and Dora came to remove their dinner plates. "Will you be having dessert?"
"I guess apple pie is out of the question," Charmaine said owlishly.
Luke didn't look up. "I'll have the bread pudding, please."
His dinner companions agreed with his decision, and Dora cleared the table. She returned with their desserts, filled Luke's coffee cup and set a fresh pot of tea on the table.
"This is delicious," Charmaine said. "I wonder how you make it."
"Eggs and bread and...cinnamon," Annie replied. "I—I saw a recipe in a cookbook."
"Well, it's delicious."
She glanced over and he knew her thoughts. Cinnamon. Lord, he had it bad for this woman when he thought of nothing but kissing her, even when they were sitting in a restaurant surrounded by other people.
Too soon, the meal was over. Luke paid the bill and escorted the ladies from the building and brought the wagon around. Annie stood and he took her hand, walking beside her in the twilight as she made her way to the back of the wagon.
"Why don't I get a horse and see you home?" he said, not wanting to end their time together, even if they had no privacy.
Charmaine expressed her agreement and he helped Annie into the back and Charmaine up to the seat, then rode beside her as far as the livery.
He entered the stable and saddled Wrangler. "We're goin' for a ride this evenin'," he told the animal, then led him out and tied his reins to the back of the wagon. He wanted only to climb into the back with Annie, but he did the gentlemanly thing and took the leads from her cousin.
Charmaine seemed a little subdued, and he appreciated a few welcome stretches of silence. Before long the Renlow ranch came into view beneath the darkening sky, a modest spread with good water and healthy stock. He pulled the wagon up before the house, and Mort came out the door.
Luke helped Charmaine down. "Luke came home with us, Daddy."
"Son." Mort shook his hand. "Mr. Renlow."
Annie's uncle lowered her to the ground while Luke got her chair. She thanked her uncle and seated herself.
"The missus just made some fresh coffee," Mort said.
"No, thanks," Luke replied.
"She made raisin cookies."
"Now I could probably tuck away a cookie."
They headed for the house. Once again, Mort picked up Annie and carried her while Luke got her chair.
The Renlow place was spacious and adequately furnished. They weren't well-to-do, but they were comfortable and their house was a real home. They were genuinely nice warm people. Vera Renlow brought a tray of cookies to the kitchen table and they nibbled and talked.
She offered a pitcher of cold milk and Luke accepted a glass.
He felt as though he'd broken through a wall that had been standing in front of him most of his life. A wall separating him and Annie. These people treated him as though he were any other person. They accepted him.
But then they weren't Annie's parents.
Charmaine behaved less silly in her home and in the company of her parents, and he actually saw a side of her he liked. She offered Mort more coffee and Luke more milk. She filled her father's cup with her hand on his shoulder. Mort gave his daughter an affectionate smile.
Annie seemed comfortable and at ease with the Renlows, too, exchanging banter and waving her hand at her uncle when he told a story about her thinking a baby rabbit was a baby pig when she was twelve years old.
"Well, they look the same," she said, laughing. "Those baby bunnies didn't have one lick of fur and their ears were short. Now, what would you think if you'd never seen one before?"
The question was directed at Luke, and he shook his head and grinned, saying, "I think pigs are a little bigger, but then it's probably an easy mistake."
“Well, Charmaine came carrying it to show me, and I didn't see its mother. It looked like a pig to me!"
Mort laughed again, and Annie cast him a mock scowl. "You wouldn't want anyone to mention the time you climbed down the ladder and stepped into the paint bucket, would you?"
Vera got a laugh over that one and joined Annie in regaling Luke with the tale.
<
br /> Their family and their easy camaraderie charmed Luke. As a boy, there'd been only him and his father, and as a youth it had been him and Gil, with no women in their lives. Women sure brightened a house...and a heart.
"How are you related to the Sweetwaters?" Luke asked conversationally. He couldn't imagine the Sweetwater family being this unpretentious.
"Mort and Annie's mother are brother and sister," Vera said.
"Oh. They don't—look alike."
Mort and the girls said nothing. Luke glanced at them, hoping his question hadn't put a damper on the enjoyable evening.
Annie offered him her sweet smile.
"Both nice looking, though," Luke said, and the others chuckled.
Mort smiled at Vera. "My wife was the prettiest girl in Fairfax County. Now she has a little competition, what with Charmaine and Annie here, don't you think?"
"It would be a three-way tie if I had to vote."
Annie's uncle finished his coffee. "You're a smart man, Mr. Carpenter."
"I just know when not to hang myself."
Mort chortled and pushed his chair back to stand. "I'm turnin' in." He offered his hand. "Come back any time."
"Thank you, sir."
The older man started for the doorway, then turned back with his forehead creased in curiosity. "Say, which of these young ladies is it you're callin' on, anyway?"
Chapter Six
He'd been too quick to say he knew how not to hang himself. Mort Renlow's words had created the first tension he'd felt in this house since he'd arrived. What should he say? Did the man think that he might be coming around to see his daughter? The truth of how it must look hit Luke square between the eyes.
Of course he could think that. Luke had invited both girls for ice cream and then for dinner. While he'd been thinking that Charmaine's presence kept his and Annie's relationship respectable in public, others might have been thinking he was using Annie as a chaperon. The thought angered him momentarily. But Mort wasn't thinking any less of Annie; he just truly wasn't sure of Luke's intent and his question was honest.
For the first time, Luke considered Charmaine's feelings and felt like a heel. If Annie hadn't confided in her, then she might be thinking he was interested in her. All along, he'd assumed she'd known his attraction was for Annie.
Mort stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, waiting.
Luke met Annie's eyes and read the panic behind them. He glanced at Charmaine, seeing a touch of color in her cheeks and an expectant lift to her eyebrows. No. Annie hadn't shared what had gone on between them. Why not?
He didn't know any other way than honesty, so he said, "Charmaine is pretty and charming, and I'm sure the fellows will be flockin' around soon, but your daughter is a trifle too young for me, Mr. Renlow."
Mort nodded as though that simple declaration was all that need be said. "It's Annie, then."
Luke nodded affirmatively. It most certainly was Annie.
Annie saw his nod and felt the rush of pleasure and relief sluice through her insides. She had waited with dread, not knowing if she wanted Luke to make a declaration or not. His admission brought a lump to her throat. She wanted to jump up and hug him, but she turned instead to her cousin.
Charmaine had cast her gaze to the tabletop and it was a full minute before her lashes swept up and she looked Annie in the eye. Annie wanted to spare her embarrassment, but she didn't know what to say. She'd never known what to say, and that's why this moment had come. She hadn't possessed the courage or the confidence to really believe that Luke was interested in her.
Now she knew. And so did Charmaine.
"You're gonna have a tough time with Annie's folks," Mort said. "I hope you know what you're doin'."
"I think I do," Luke replied. "I know I don't have a good history with the Sweetwaters. But Annie's grown-up now. She should be able to make decisions for herself."
Vera stood behind Charmaine's chair. "Nothing I've ever said to my brother-in-law has made a difference, but you have our support. Annie deserves to be happy, and whatever makes her happy will be what we want, too."
Annie blinked at her aunt's approving words, not surprised because she knew her character, but moved by her understanding.
Her uncle took his leave and Luke stood. "Thank you, Mrs. Renlow. Thanks for everything."
"You're welcome here any time."
“Good night, Charmaine,'' he said tentatively.
Charmaine mumbled something.
"Annie," Luke said to her.
She wished they had a few minutes to talk privately, but right now she didn't know what she'd have said. "Good night."
He looked as though he wanted to say more, but he exited through the kitchen door.
Vera left the room and her footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Annie would have liked to hug this new information to her heart and enjoy the amazing fact that Luke was interested in her, but, concerned for her cousin's feelings, she reached for Charmaine's arm.
"Oh, Annie, you're positively the luckiest girl in all of Colorado!" her cousin said breathlessly.
Annie blinked back tears in agreement.
"Of course, it was you all along," she said, her tone self-deprecating. "Why, you're bright and beautiful and poised, far more sophisticated than me."
"All those things have nothing to do with it," Annie disagreed. "You are all those and more. It's just that Luke and I have this...this history."
"Yes. And it's so romantic. Oh, Annie, he's loved you since you were a girl!"
She didn't know if he loved her, exactly, but he had always been kind and shown respect. He treated her as an equal, as very few people in her life ever had. As Charmaine always had. "I only hoped," she told her. "I didn't know. I thought maybe it was you. You deserve someone wonderful, too."
"Well, I'm disappointed," Charmaine said. "No use denying it. But I'm thrilled for you! Good Lord, what will your mother say?" She blinked. "What will Burdell do?"
Annie could only imagine the answers to those questions. She shook her head. She was so grateful for Charmaine's loving acceptance, she threw her arms around her, rather awkwardly because she was in her chair and Charmaine was seated, too, and hugged her soundly. All the emotions of the past days and weeks built up and exploded in a burst of tears.
"Annie! There's an honorable sheriff now, he won't let Burdell do anything bad to Luke."
That was true. People couldn't just go around beating up one another without the law stepping in. But what if Burdy hurt Luke and went to jail? He had a family. Her worry for Luke hadn't been the only cause of this emotional torrent. The reality of Luke's intent, her aunt and uncle's acceptance, Charmaine's selfless joy for her, years and years of inadequacy and wishful thinking...all those poignant feelings, plus more, confused her heart and her head. "I—I know. It's more than th-that. It's everything."
Charmaine slid from her chair to kneel before Annie and hug her, rubbing her back comfortingly. "I haven't heard you cry like this since Uncle Eldon made you give that puppy back to the Deets boy. You'd think you'd lost something, rather than gained a handsome, attentive admirer."
Annie pulled away and swiped at her cheeks. "I know, I'm ungrateful, aren't I?"
"No, you're just sensitive."
"You're so good to me." Annie squeezed Charmaine's hand.
"Well, remember that," Charmaine said, sitting back on her heels. “Because the next too-good-to-be-true man is mine."
Annie laughed. "Of course he is."
Charmaine stood. "I'd better get up to bed, so I can be fresh for school in the morning. You can sleep in, you lucky duck."
"Be glad you get to go to school and that you don't have to be bored out of your wits by tutors. I used to sit and daydream about going to class like the others." Annie stood and blew out the lantern hanging over the table and pointed to the one on the kitchen wall.
Charmaine lifted the chimney and extinguished the wick. “All right, all right, I'
m grateful. Night, Annie," she said into the darkness.
"Night."
Annie wheeled herself into her room where her aunt had lit a lamp. Leaving her chair in a corner, she walked to the dresser for her night-rail, picked up her silver-backed hairbrush and sat on the edge of the bed to brush her hair.
She paused with the bristles in the ends and stared at her reflection in the window glass. Looking back at her couldn't be the same girl who'd only wistfully dreamed of a normal life while spending hers in a wheelchair and watching everyone else have fun and do the things she yearned to do. The girl looking back at her looked like every other young woman in Copper Creek, a normal girl doing normal things.
Annie hugged the thoughts close, her mind reeling with images of the future.
She didn't watch her reflection as she got to her feet; that wasn't as graceful as she wished. Walking to the window, she drew the curtains closed. It was as if her life had only just begun, that all that had come before was only a foreshadow to the real thing.
Everything would be perfect if only her parents could see Luke the same way the Renlows did. But they didn't see her the same way the Renlows did, so that was undoubtedly too much to dream for. She changed into her nightclothes.
A black cloud hung over her happiness. She was too cowardly to even say his name to her parents yet. Things could stay like this for the time being. The situation wasn't perfect, but it was exciting and new and she wanted to enjoy it a while longer. Right now she wasn't up to facing the possibilities that the future held.
Right now she wanted to let the fact that Luke had declared himself soak in. The memories of his words, of all their moments together buoyed her flagging spirit, and she turned down the lamp wick and crawled into bed.
She would take this day by day.
"Your brother will be here in a few minutes," Mildred Sweetwater called to Annie.
Annie jumped and stuffed her new dress back into the comer of her wardrobe where her mother wouldn't find it, running her fingers over the spring-green brocade one last time. "I'll be there in a minute!"
Sweet Annie Page 7
