Jesse smiled. "I won't." He excused himself from John and caught up with Sam a few steps before he reached the wagon.
"Sam!"
Sam turned and smiled at Jesse.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" All around them, families piled into wagons and started home.
Sam shrugged. "Sure. About what?"
"Well, it's..." Jesse began awkwardly, "it's a sensitive matter."
"It is?" Sam replied, interested now.
Jesse nodded. "It's about my sister-in-law, Andrea..."
* * *
"Well, then, don't you know," Loretta Pease droned on, "those bread and butter pickles turned out so sour even my hogs wouldn't eat them. It took me all afternoon, of course, to figure what went wrong."
"No..." gasped Angelina Butterworth, listening raptly to Loretta's long-winded tale.
"You'll never guess what happened..."
Loretta's voice faded away and Andrea suppressed a yawn searching the crowded churchyard for a glimpse of Jesse. She found him walking amiably with Sam Eakin, the widower from the other side of Elkgrove Township.
A surge of hope blossomed through her at the sight of Jesse getting reacquainted with old friends. It hadn't occurred to her before this moment, but if Jesse reestablished old friendships, he might discover he actually liked it here. The fact that he'd brought her to church today was a good sign.
In his years away, he'd become withdrawn and closed-off. Except for his growing friendship with Silas, he'd made no effort to fit in here. He did his work, ate, and slept. She supposed that was his way of keeping himself separate, aloof.
Maybe, just maybe, if she could show him that he did belong here, after all, he might reconsider going back to Montana.
He might even reconsider her.
As she watched him, deep in conversation with Sam Eakin, Jesse's head came up, absently searching the crowd. When his gaze met hers he stopped. Had he been looking for her? she wondered. The thought made her pulse pick up. His smile was the sort lovers exchange, she thought strangely. An intimate, heart-stopping smile, one that sent awareness skittering through her and made her knees weak.
For a moment, Jesse seemed to lose track of what he'd been saying, then Sam said something to him and Jesse returned to his conversation. Swallowing hard, she turned away, too, remembering the heated kiss they'd shared last night.
She realized suddenly that all the women in her group were staring at her as if waiting for a reply to some question she hadn't heard.
"Well?" repeated Angelina, her double chin wobbling as she spoke. "You heard about him didn't you?"
Andrea blinked. "Who?"
Angelina gave an exasperated sigh. "Mitch Lodray, of course. We've been admiring him for the past five minutes."
She went cold all over. "Mitch?"
"Yes, darlin'," Loretta chimed in. "Why, that's right, you two went sparkin' once or twice didn't you? Talk was, he was sweet on you. Well, he's standin' right over there and I'd say it's you he's watchin'."
Mitch Lodray was, indeed, waiting for her to meet his eye. When she did, he smiled that same smile she remembered from years ago, though it would never have the stupefying effect on her it seemed to have on the rest of the women in the church yard. It sent a chill through her.
He hadn't changed much in the intervening years. He was still tall, broad-shouldered, with steely gray eyes that seemed to reflect the daylight, so at times they appeared almost colorless. His face was gaunter than she remembered, and he leaned heavily on the cane in his right hand as he spoke with the soldiers standing beside him.
To her dismay, he started toward her, encouraged by the fact she'd met his eye. She bit back a curse and began to look for an escape route.
"Oh, sweet perdition, he's comin' this way," Loretta gushed in her ear. She grabbed Andrea's arm, effectively cutting off her getaway. "Lookit that limp. Ain't it just a shame a fine lookin' man like that has to suffer with a limp for the rest of his life simply 'cause he was a hero?"
Hero? Andrea nearly gagged.
"Hello," Mitch said, slipping his hat off as he reached her. His voice, deep and resonant as a well-tuned bass fiddle, sent a chill up her spine. "How wonderful to see you again. It's been... what? Two years?"
"Is that all?" she replied with a cool she didn't feel. "I thought it had been longer than that."
Mitch moved to kiss her cheek, but she turned her face subtly away, avoiding it. He smelled of a memory, of cigarettes and a liberal dose of bay rum, and she wished desperately for a breeze to lift the stiflingly still air surrounding them. Her stomach clenched.
"You've gotten more beautiful with the passing years, Andrea," he went on without missing a beat.
"I'm Mrs. Winslow now, Mr. Lodray," she said, fighting the nauseating sensation that the yard had begun to tilt like a wobbly top running out of spin. She braced her feet apart and tightened her grip on the baby. She would be a fool to let on to these women that anything was amiss between her and Mitch. It would all become fodder for their gossip circles.
Mitch inclined his head toward the baby, but his eyes didn't leave hers. "Motherhood agrees with you. He's a fine-looking boy."
"I think so," she answered tightly.
"I heard you married shortly before I returned to Harvard. I was sorry to hear about Zach's death in the war."
She fixed her eyes on a shiny pebble at her feet. "Thank you."
"The conflict has stolen a lot of good men. I was one of the fortunate ones," he added, changing his grip pointedly on his cane.
All around them, families piled into wagons and headed for home. Andrea focused on the creak of wagon seat springs and the restive sounds of the harnessed horses to keep her equilibrium.
"Oh, my, Mr. Lodray," Loretta sighed, "I think it's such a crime that good-hearted men like yourself oughta pay so dearly for heroism."
He tipped a charming grin her way. "It's a small price to pay for the preservation of the Union. I'll be fine I assure you, Mrs. Pease. My foot is getting better every day," he said rotating the appendage testingly. "I've been expanding my boundaries, in fact, walking a little farther on it every day. Perhaps," he suggested, glancing at Andrea, "you'd like to join me one day, Mrs. Winslow? For a walk, that is."
A cold lump caught in her throat. "No. I'm afraid I'm quite busy at Willow Banks, Mr. Lodray." Looking past him, she caught sight of Jesse again, watching her intently from over Sam Eakin's shoulder. The mere sight of Jesse calmed her, and he sent her another smile, this one reassuring.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Mitch answered, touching the brim of his hat. "Perhaps another time. After the crop is in?"
Not if the crop walked in on its own feet, Andrea thought, forcing a tight smile. "Perhaps," she said, simply to get rid of him.
"I'll look forward to that day, then... Mrs. Winslow." He turned, and graced Loretta with a version of the dazzle that had most of the women in Elkgrove township swooning. "Good day, ladies." He started to walk away.
"Mr. Lodray?" Batting her bright red fan beneath her nose, Loretta Pease lowered her voice, and seized the moment. "Perhaps you'd like to join the Raffertys at our house tonight for supper. Camy Micheals and her parents will be there, too."
"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Pease," he replied. "I can't think of more charming company with whom to spend an evening, but I'm, uh, afraid I have a previous engagement. Some other time?"
Loretta smiled graciously, her fan beating double time. "Oh my, of course. Any time, Mr. Lodray."
A dimple appeared in his tanned cheek. "I'll look forward to it, then. Good day, ladies."
"Good day, Mr. Lodray," they chorused as one.
His last look was for Andrea. It held both promise and threat.
She alone didn't watch Mitch limp away. Instead, she searched the spot where she'd last seen Jesse and found him walking toward her and the others, his gaze on Mitch. In years past, she might have called the look on his face possessive. Today, she merely blamed it on the fierce sun
light beating down from overhead.
"Are you crazy, Andrea Winslow?" gasped Loretta. "You shouldn't turn a man like Mitch Lodray down when he's asking you to walk out with him."
Andrea sighed. "Loretta, please don't concern yourself with my social life. Or lack of it."
"Well, somebody should," Loretta retorted.
Isabelle touched Andrea's arm. "Loretta's right. You shouldn't be cuttin' yourself off from possibilities. After all, Mitch Lodray is as prime for pluckin' as any bandy rooster I ever did see. Why, one of these days he'll be taking over the Chronicle."
Angelina chuckled in a gossipy sort of way. "Not if his ma has any say so about it."
"Oh, phooey! If I were ten years younger and not already hooked up with Jasper," Loretta sighed, "I'd be taking a second look or two at him myself."
"Lor-retta!" Angelina gasped with an astonished grin.
"Well...?" Loretta answered with a laugh.
"You should be grateful for what you've got," Andrea told them both.
The teasing smile slipped from Loretta's face. "Oh, honey, you know we all adored your Zach. But all the wishin' in the world won't bring him back. Or any of the other boys who've died for the Cause." She wrapped a sympathetic arm around Andrea's shoulder. "You've gotta move ahead with your life. You've got this sweet lil' boy to think of now. And your... reputation," she added pointedly, watching Jesse approach.
Andrea tightened her arms around her sleeping child and little Zach stirred in sleep. "Thank you for your concern, Loretta. I know you only speak out of friendship."
Loretta colored slightly and didn't say more. Andrea's gaze went to Jesse, who was approaching the group.
No one had the right to be that sinfully handsome, she mused. The sunlight gleamed on his long hair, gilding it with silver streaks making him appear more angel than devil. Her fingers itched to touch it. Saint or sinner, his effect wasn't lost on the others either.
Loretta lifted a hand to check her hair and Angelina smoothed down the ample bodice of her gray silk gown.
"Ready to go?" he asked, drawing up beside Andrea.
She nodded.
"Ladies?" Jesse touched the brim of his hat to Angelina and Loretta. "It's a pleasure to see you again. Come out to Willow Banks sometime and pay Andrea a visit. She's working too hard."
"Oh, we will," Loretta replied, "and it's good to have you back in Elkgrove, Mr. Winslow."
"Thank you, ma'am." Jesse flashed her a smile and steered Andrea toward their wagon at a brisk pace.
"Have fun?" he asked.
"It was nice to get out."
"Was that Mitch Lodray I saw you talking with earlier?"
She avoided his eyes. "He wasn't exactly talking to me. He was just... there."
"He was paying a lot of attention to you for being 'just there."'
She felt her face heat up, surprised Jesse had even noticed. "He was admiring Zachary, like everyone else."
They reached the wagon and he lifted Zach from her shoulder, giving her a hand up. "And why not, huh, Corncob?" he asked, giving the baby a smooch on the cheek before he handed him back to Andrea. "You're an exceptionally handsome kid."
Andrea just smiled. Glancing back at the thinning crowd, the handsome, dark-haired soldier from church was standing a little apart from the crowd, watching her. He nodded to her politely and touched the brim of his hat as he caught her eye. Disconcerted, she smiled back wondering again if she knew him, then turned back to Jesse.
"I, uh, hope you don't mind," he went on, climbing in after her. "I invited Sam over for dinner."
"Sam? Sam Eakin?"
"Yeah, and his kids. Is that all right with you?"
Her brain whirled. Jesse had invited a friend for dinner? She could hardly believe it. It was better than she'd hoped for. "Of course it's all right. I—I'd be happy to have Sam over. I just didn't know you were friends."
"Oh, yeah. Great friends," Jesse assured her expansively, gathering the traces from around the brake handle. "You didn't know that?"
"No."
"He lost his wife, you know. You remember Suzannah. It's probably been a while since he's had a decent home-cooked meal. Maybe you could make him one of your pies."
His rock-hard thigh brushed hers as he released the brake and gave the reins a snap. Andrea reached up and unbuttoned the top two buttons on the high neck of her black bombazine gown and lifted the damp fabric away from her skin. "I saw some ripe blackberries along the creek just yesterday."
"Mm-mmm. Sounds good."
She smiled. Jesse had always loved her pies. She remembered the October day, so long ago, when he'd outbid everyone in Elkgrove township for one of her fresh apple pies at a church bazaar. He'd paid a whole five dollars for it. She'd laughed then, flattered as any young girl in love would have been. But she'd wondered why he'd spent all that hard-earned money when he knew he'd be enjoying her pies for the rest of his life.
She sighed inwardly brushing a thumb over Zachary's soft cheek. Nothing had quite turned out the way she'd planned.
They started off, and Andrea stared ahead without really seeing the ribbon of dirt road snaking between the green sea of distant corn and grainfields. How silly she was to find hope in such a small thing as Jesse smiling at the thought of one of her pies, but all the same, she pressed a hand to the steady thudding of her heart. For the hundredth time since he'd returned, she cautioned herself against the foolhardiness of letting Jesse back into her heart. He'd deserted her once and in all likelihood would again. He was as wild as the tall spires of golden sunflowers that grew like scattered sunshine along the sides of the road. He craved freedom the way those flowers craved summer rain.
Yes, she'd be foolish to let him back in her heart. But the truth was, she'd never completely let him go.
Chapter 11
"More pie, Sam?" Jesse asked, lifting the nearly empty pie plate. Around the table, four small Eakin children inhaled the last of their slices, the youngest, Baby Benjamin, having already resorted to licking his plate clean. The fifth, two-year-old Luke, had disappeared under the table, occupied with caterpillaring his way between the chair legs.
Silas had wisely stayed at Etta's for supper. He might have gone hungry if he'd eaten here, Jesse thought, hoping Sam would turn down that last piece of pie. Jesse couldn't remember ever seeing one family pack away more food than this one just had. In fact, the Eakin children had been so intent on consuming everything in sight that they had, for a least twenty minutes, ceased whacking each other over the head with the nearest object.
Sam was another problem altogether. Nerves had apparently stolen his voice, for he'd spoken hardly two words to Andi since getting there. Who would have thought Sam Eakin tongue-tied terrified around women? Jesse ran a finger under the buttoned collar of his shirt. He'd held up his end of the conversation for most of the meal, but was running out of topics that might lead Sam to actually show interest in Andi.
"You sure, Sam?" he asked again, holding up the pie.
Sam's fork stopped halfway to his mouth. Color crept up his neck. "No, thanks." He patted his stomach. "Full."
Andrea nodded pleasantly, then sent a helpless look to Jesse. She jiggled Little Zachary against her shoulder. The baby's open mouth explored the dark burgundy paisley shoulder of her dress—a compromise Andi had made to the widow's weeds she'd intended to wear. Zachary's eyes were wide and alert at the spectacle of so many small people at his table.
"Me, me! Ith mine!" lisped four year old Lisbeth Eakin, pumping her scrawny arm in the air and peeking around the fragrant bouquet of Queen Ann's lace, wild honeysuckle and black-eyed Susans that Sam and the children had picked for Andi on the way over.
"No fair," protested five-and-a-half-year-old Gregory, his mouth and cheeks stained purple. "I'm bigger'n her an' we ain't et pie since Ma died."
"Mind your manners," Sam scolded gruffly as the child reached for the last slice of blackberry pie. "We didn't come here to eat the Winslows outta house and home."
/> It was the longest sentence Sam had managed to string together since arriving, except to admire the innards of the new cultivator. Jesse straightened in his seat with renewed hope.
"But Pa," Lisbeth begged, using her big gray-blue eyes to best advantage. "I'm thtill hungry."
Sam placed his hand over his daughter's in gentle warning. "Lisbeth..."
"It's okay, Mr. Eakin," Andrea said. "They're growing children. Let them have it. I made it especially for you and the children."
Sam blushed and cleared his throat as if he were going to speak, but took the plates and divided the last piece between his two oldest children.
"Andi's quite a cook, isn't she Sam?" Jesse offered with a twinkle of pride.
"Yemphn-mumm," Sam answered with a quick nod, his mouth full of food.
Trying another tack, Jesse ruffled Gregory's hair. "When I was your age," he told him with a chuckle, "my ma used to tell me I had a leg so hollow the coons were likely gonna den up in it come winter."
Gregory stared at him with wide, solemn eyes. "You had a coon livin' in your leg?"
Jesse's laughter faltered. "Oh, yeah. For nearly a year I'd say." He looked at Sam who looked like he couldn't tell whether Jesse was serious or not. "That coon was always hungry."Andi was grinning openly now. Jesse decided to change tactics. "Hey, how 'bout that corn, Sam?"
Sam ducked his head. "Looks good." A pause. "Good harvest this year." Another long pause. He squirmed in his seat and Jesse could tell he was really trying. "Been havin' some trouble with corn worms," he said at last.
Andrea pressed her fingertips against her lips and stared hard at her plate.
"Have you?" Jesse replied with a strangled look.
"Yup," Sam replied. "You?"
"Not too much, no." Jesse twirled the tines of his fork against his plate and listened to the slurping sounds the children were making with their pie.
Sam grunted. "Made a potion up of mashed worms, water and a little corn likker," Sam went on earnestly, wiping the beads of blackberry juice from his mustache with the edge of his sleeve. "Doused every last ear with the foul stuff. Those critters cain't abide the stink o' dead worms."
Renegade's Kiss Page 15
