by Kaki Warner
“Not since Mr. Briggs sent him to check on others in the area.”
“If you do, tell him not to leave until I speak to him.”
“Of course.”
After locking the door behind him, Lottie pulled her least muddy dress from the valise—in case Ty came by later—then quickly undressed and sank into the tub. It felt heavenly. Muscles relaxed. Soreness faded. The last of her headache drifted away on the scented steam wafting around her. After washing, she soaked until the water cooled, then reluctantly climbed out. She could get used to living rich. She might even have a talent for it.
When she left the washroom a few minutes later, she saw a woman in the hallway, her hand on the latch of a closed door. Just standing there, looking at the door. She wore a satin brocade robe and long dark hair hung in loose waves down her back. She looked ghostly. And undecided. At the sound of the washroom door closing, she turned with a start. In the dim light from the wall lamps, her eyes looked like huge blue marbles in the pale oval of her face.
“Jane?” Curious why the Englishwoman would be so far from her first floor bedroom at this late hour, and in such a state of undress, Lottie walked toward her. “What are you doing up here? Is something wrong?”
As she drew closer, she saw an odd look on Jane’s face and the way her gaze darted almost guiltily to the closed door. And suddenly Lottie knew. “That’s Briggs’s room, isn’t it?”
Jane hiked her chin and faced Lottie with grim resolve. “Yes, it’s Anson’s room. I know how it looks and what you must think of me, but I love him, Lottie. I always will. And after I leave for England it might be decades before I see him again. If ever. I hope you can understand. And forgive me.”
“Of course I understand. And there’s nothing to forgive.” Lottie closed the distance between them. “So you’ve made your decision? You’re going back?”
“In a few weeks. Once I settle my affairs here.”
“Without Briggs?”
Lifting a trembling hand, Jane brushed away a tear. “I have no choice, Lottie. I can’t stay and see him every day and know we’ll never be able to have a life together. It would destroy me.”
“You could do what you’re doing now. No one need know.”
Her smile was sad. “Anson would know. He can’t tolerate deception. It would eat away at him until there was nothing left but resentment and the need to escape. Like with his wife. I couldn’t bear that.” Her eyes glittered in the lamplight. Her face was a mask of pain. “So I shall take what I can get. And use what little time we have left to store up memories to last a lifetime. Is that so wrong?”
“Loving someone is never wrong.” Setting down her valise, Lottie pulled Jane into a tight hug. “I understand and I don’t judge you. I would never judge you, Jane. Or Briggs. I love you both.” When she released her and stepped back, they were both crying. “Do what you will, dear friend. With my blessing.”
Blinking hard, Lottie picked up her valise and walked on to her room, her heart as heavy as a stone in her chest.
As she stepped inside, she heard an odd noise, and turned to see Ty slouched in one of the two chairs flanking an ornate table by the window. His head was tipped back, mouth slightly open, big hands clasped over his belt buckle and his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. Snoring.
Leaving her valise next to the saddlebags he’d dropped at the foot of the bed, she moved quietly across the room.
He looked exhausted. And dirty. And the makeshift bandage around his arm showed traces of fresh blood. She wondered if he’d eaten. If he’d been waiting long. If he would wake up if she crawled into his lap and put her arms around him to reassure herself that he was alive and well and the terror that had gripped them this awful day was finally over.
Before she could find out, a knock sent her hurrying back to the door.
She opened it to find a uniformed maid holding an overloaded tray covered with a white napkin. “Your dinner, ma’am. With an extra plate. Shall I put it on the table by the window?”
“I can take it.” Not wanting to flaunt the impropriety of having a man in her room at this hour, Lottie angled the tray through the half-opened door. “Are there extra towels in the wash room?”
“Yes, ma’am. Mr. Kearsey sent some up, thinking Mr. Benton might be needing them for his bath.”
So much for propriety. “Thank you. When I’m finished, I’ll leave the tray and items for the laundry in the hall.”
“Very well, ma’am.”
Lottie kicked the door closed and turned to find Ty blinking sleepily and scratching his dark, tousled hair. “Lottie.” Spotting the tray, he sat up straighter. “Is that food?”
“It is. And by the weight of it, Kearsey sent enough for a small army.”
“I told him I was hungry.” Rising, he took the tray from her hands and set it on the table by the window. “Smells good.”
She made a face. “Regrettably, you don’t.”
“That bad?”
“Kearsey left clean towels for you in the wash room.”
“The food will get cold.”
“Not if you bathe fast. And since when do you care anyway? When you’re hungry you’ll eat anything, cold or not. I’ve seen you.”
With a labored sigh, he picked up his saddlebags. “I better not come back and find all the food gone.”
Lottie laughed. Imitating a flirtatious move she’d seen Becky do a dozen times, she flipped a curl off her shoulder. It probably would have worked better if her eyes hadn’t been puffy from crying and her hair had been dry. And curly. Feeling brave, she smiled coyly. “Oh, I daresay there’ll be something here for you to nibble on.”
He blinked at her, those astounding blue eyes warming her from across the room. Then he dropped the saddlebags, crossed the room in two long strides, took her face in his hands, and kissed her.
And, oh . . . what a kiss. Soft and gentle, at first. Then firm and demanding. Then slow and sweet, his tongue dancing along hers, his hands moving up into her damp hair, then stroking down over her shoulders to her breasts.
Her knees actually wobbled. Her head swam. Her heart beat so fast she thought she might faint.
“You’re not wearing a corset,” he whispered against her lips.
“I don’t own a corset.”
“I’ll buy you one.”
“Why?”
“So I can unlace it. With my teeth. For starters.” Taking his hands away, he shot her a wicked grin full of promise, picked up the saddlebags again, and slipped out the door.
Lottie struggled to calm her breathing. She hadn’t been kissed often—well, hardly ever. But she was certain Tyree Benton was the best kisser who ever lived.
Chapter 26
Fifteen minutes later, Ty returned—smooth-shaven, wet-haired, and wearing clean clothes except for a red spot spreading on his sleeve. Moving to the tray on the table, he pulled off the napkin and grinned when he saw a plate piled high with roasted beef, potato wedges, steamed carrots, and green beans with bacon. “Man food,” he said, approvingly. “God bless Kearsey.”
“Your arm is bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch.” Pulling out one of the chairs, he motioned for her to sit.
“A scratch that’s still bleeding. Did you have Doc Helms look at it?”
“Tomorrow. I promise. Have a seat.”
“You could be dead of blood loss by tomorrow. Let me look at it.”
“Can’t we eat first?”
Was that a whine in his voice? “At least let me bandage it. Eating dinner with a man who’s bleeding isn’t that appetizing.”
He had to remove his shirt, which awakened all those breathless feelings she’d battled the first time she’d seen his bare naked chest. The man was a work of art.
She felt him studying her as she ripped off a ruffle from one of her clean
petticoats, made a bandage, and tied it around his thick bicep. After reluctantly helping him don his shirt again, she took the seat across from him.
“You’ve been crying,” he said.
She gave a shaky smile. “A little.”
“Why? Is everything all right?”
She didn’t want to talk about the heartache Jane and Briggs faced. Or dwell on the terrifying events of the day. Or talk about the uncertain future. They were alive and safe and all she wanted to do was rest in his arms and listen to the sure, steady beat of his heart. “Everything is fine now that you’re here.” Seeing he wasn’t convinced, she reached across the table and put her hand over his. “And I’m so happy and grateful I’ll be spending the rest of my life with the man I love.”
“I hope you’re talking about me.”
She pinched his hand, then sat back. “Eat. You look hungry.”
The blue in eyes seemed to darken. “I am. But I’ll start with supper.” He set the extra plate in front of her. “Take what you want. I’ll finish the rest.”
After serving herself, she pushed the still-overflowing plate back across the table.
He dug in. Silence, except for the clink of their forks against china. She enjoyed watching him. He ate like a man who hadn’t been fed in a week, as passionate about food as he was about her. Not that she was complaining. Doubtless it took an abnormal amount of food to fuel such a big frame, especially for an active man barely into his twenties. And she certainly wanted him hale and hearty. She only hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when he learned she was a poor cook.
He cleared half of his plate before he spoke. “How’s the bump on your head?”
“Which one?”
He looked up, regret in his eyes.
“Better,” she said, sorry she had reminded him of Millsap. “Both of them. How’s yours?” The bandage Doc Tillips had put on his temple was gone, but with that wave of hair covering his brow, she couldn’t tell if the cut had closed. Since there was no blood, she guessed it had.
“I’m fine.” He continued eating.
She loved his neck. Especially when he swallowed. All those muscles and tendons and that bobbing Adam’s apple—
“Becky’s doing okay?”
She took a deep breath and let it go. “Bruised but happy. She and Juno are getting married. Must be something in the water.”
“Worked for us.” His smile told her he was thinking about the creek at her grandfather’s place. She was, too. Struggling to control her errant thoughts, she stared down at the long thick carrots on her plate, but that only sent her naughty mind to places it shouldn’t go. “Briggs said he sent you to check on the Bucks. Are they all right? You were gone a long time.”
“The storm missed them. Nice folks.”
“They are.” She waited, hoping he would say more.
He didn’t.
She picked through her green beans for bacon, then gave up and set down her fork. “How’d you like their place?”
“You’re right. It has a lot of potential.” He pointed to an untouched slice of roast beef on her plate. “You going to eat that?”
“Take it.”
He did, devoured it in four bites, then started on her green beans.
They’d have to plant a garden, she decided. A really big one. “More potential than your uncle’s place?”
“I hope so.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I sold my uncle’s place. Can I have your roll?”
She bounced it off his chin. “You sold it? Why?” She had hoped to hang on to it as a hedge against future oil exploration in the panhandle area.
“To make a down payment on the Buck place. Although I guess we should start calling it the Benton place from now on.”
Lottie stared at him. Did that mean what she thought it did? “You want to buy the Buck place?”
“Already did. Griffin’s holding the papers at the bank for us to sign. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas for the rest of your life, by the way.”
“Truly? You bought it? It’s really ours?”
“It is.”
She would have jumped across the table, but she doubted her legs would hold her. “Oh, Ty. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. Now stop crying. I’m trying to eat.”
As she wiped her face, it occurred to her that he’d made this momentous decision without consulting her. And he’d done it without using any of her money. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But she wouldn’t give up on the idea of a full partnership. “What about the improvements and repairs?”
“I’ll get to them in good time.”
“What if I sold Grandpa’s ranch?”
“Then I’d get to them sooner.”
“You’d let me pay for them?”
“You’re the one who wants them.” Apparently unable to withstand her onslaught of questions, he set down his fork, propped his elbows on the table, and clasped his hands above his plate. “I don’t care where we live, honey, as long as we’re together. And since it’s clear you won’t be happy anywhere but in Greenbroke, I signed the papers on my uncle’s land while we were in San Angela and I sent the money to Griffin to make a down payment on the Buck ranch.” He gave that lopsided smile she loved. “I may not be as book smart as you, Lottie, but I know what I’m doing. And the most important thing I can do is make sure you’re happy. So yes, I bought the Buck place. And yes, you can pay for the improvements if you want. Are you happy now?”
Deliriously. “You did all that for me?”
“For you and the pecans. They’re really tasty.” He picked up his fork again. “Now can I finish my supper?”
But her mind was already racing away. “We’ll do the water closet first. Or maybe the windmill. The porch.”
He watched her as he chewed, an odd smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Making a list, are you?”
“If that’s okay with you.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“I’ll find a way to convince you.”
He forked up a bite of carrot. “Shouldn’t be hard. Wear the yellow dress. It worked before.”
Joy swelled in her chest until she thought she would burst with it. How had she snagged a man like Tyree Benton? What had she done to be so blessed?
“Becky and Juno are getting married.”
“You already said that. When?”
“Soon.” And why not? Life waited for no one. Not for Jane and Briggs. Not for her and Ty. They all could have died today, but they didn’t. It was like the storm was giving them a second chance.
An idea took shape. She weighed it, studying it from every angle, filling that balance sheet in her mind with all the pros and cons it presented.
If they truly loved each other, why wait?
“Do you love me, Ty?” she blurted out. “Truly love me?”
“I’m letting you marry me, aren’t I?”
“I’m serious.”
He studied her over a green bean hanging from his fork. “Of course I do. Why do you even ask?”
“Because I’ve changed my mind.”
He lowered his fork and sat back. “About what?”
“Getting married.”
A look of alarm came over his face.
“I don’t want a fancy wedding,” she rushed on before he could interrupt. “I don’t want to wait, either. I want us to get married as soon as we can.”
“What about all those decisions you said we had to make?”
“We can figure them out as we go along.” She tried to explain. “I’m tired of planning and worrying and fretting about a future that might change when the next storm blows through. I want to be more spontaneous. Less structured. Less fearful.”
“Fearful? You?”
“I say we get m
arried and start living. Soon. Tonight.”
“We can’t get married tonight.”
“But we can start living.”
He studied her in silence. She could almost see the thoughts bouncing through his head and knew the moment of realization. “I don’t have any preventatives.”
“Any what?”
“You could get pregnant.”
She clasped her hands. “Oh, I hope so.” Pictures flashed through her mind. A rangy little boy with big feet and eyes the color of turquoise gemstones and hair as dark as bootblack. A daughter, lining up her dolls for their lessons. Maybe a hound dog. And a barn cat. And Ty . . . always and forever. She barely refrained from leaping across the table and throwing her arms around him.
“Okay.” Picking up his fork, he resumed eating.
Okay? That was it? His only response to her momentous decision? Not decision, she reminded herself. Suggestion. She didn’t want him to think she was running roughshod over him again.
He must have read her thoughts. Grinning through bulging cheeks, he finished chewing, swallowed, then said, “Food builds stamina. I think we should go for four this time.”
With those words, she did jump into his lap, and proceeded to stuff carrots into his mouth as fast as she could. Between laughter, threats, and his attempts to dodge her, they soon had food smeared on their faces, in their hair, and over their clean clothes.
“We’ll need another bath,” he said, once he stopped laughing long enough to speak.
Her breath caught. “Together?”
“That copper tub is pretty roomy.”
She licked a gob of carrot from his eyebrow. “You being the big, strong man you are, I doubt it would be roomy enough for both of us.”
“We’ll manage.”
“Someone might see us.”
“Not if we close the door. I thought you wanted to be spontaneous.”
“I do, but not spontaneously scandalous.”
“Your decision.”
Was that a dare? Lottie looked deep into those flame-bright eyes and saw a mischievous boy. And a kind, honorable man. And a love as strong as her own. Why should she fret about anything with this man beside her? The only thing that would ever hold them back was time. And she didn’t want to waste a minute of it.
