by Reece Butler
“Do we flip a coin to see who gets a mouthful, and who gets to eat?” Oz’s loud whisper to Billy carried across the room. When he winked his eye at her, she knew he meant it to.
“That little bowl is for Miss Unsworth,” replied Billy. “If there ain’t enough, you kin have mine.”
“No need, there’s lots of food,” said Sarah. She picked up another plate and walked to the stove. “How hungry are you, Mister Cutler?”
“As hungry as a camel with six humps,” he replied, causing Billy to laugh.
If Oz knew about their daily joke, what else had the boy overhead and told the man? A flutter started in her belly in memory of the fantasies that filled her nights. It made her both eager and shy. Had his partners told him about how she kissed Gabe before he rejected her? Would it make Oz want to kiss her again?
She filled his plate extra full and set it on the table. She always sat across from Billy, so she pushed Oz’s plate to the other side. But he walked behind her. He pulled out her stool and looked down at her, patiently waiting. Did he suspect she planned to work around the kitchen until he was finished, and then eat?
“Mr. Cutler, this is just a hotel kitchen. Please, seat yourself.”
“No, ma’am. I couldn’t sit and eat if a lady had to stand. Especially a lady I was courting.” He dragged the stool out a little farther, emphasizing his point. He was not going to give up, so she had to give in gracefully, for Billy’s sake. Of course the boy watched with eager eyes.
“Thank you.”
She stood between the table and stool, her senses on full alert. Oz slowly brought the stool up behind her. She held her breath. Because it was a stool and not a chair, he had to lean over and grasp the seat rather than the back. And since her bottom was a bit wider than the seat, his thumbs touched her when she sat. She held her back stiff and straight while he adjusted the stool, lifting her along with it. He took a few tries to get it right. Each time he leaned forward his shoulders brushed against hers. She shivered at the touch, though it was just his shirt against her dress. He’d been the same way at the Christmas party, giving her small touches that aroused an answering heat.
“That just right, ma’am?”
His warm breath stirred the hair which had escaped her kerchief. He inhaled deeply, his nose between her shoulder and ear. She shuddered when something grazed her neck. His lips?
“Lovely,” he whispered.
This time she knew it was his lips as he nipped her, just enough to let her know he was there. He followed it with a gentle kiss, a brush against her skin where Billy wouldn’t see.
“Do I hafta wait every time we eat?”
She had to clear her throat before she could answer. She looked at Billy rather than the disturbing man settling across from her.
“If we were in a home, especially in a dining room, all the males would wait until the ladies were seated,” she explained. “But this is where I work, and I might have to finish something before I can sit. It wouldn’t be right for me to make you wait, just because I was too busy.”
“Good. You must be real strong, Mr. Cutler, to lift Miss Sarah like that.”
“A gentleman never talks about a lady’s weight,” said Oz quietly. “Even if she’s not much bigger than a minute.”
“She don’t eat enough ’cause she works too hard,” Billy replied in a hoarse whisper. “That’s what Mrs. McLeod says.”
“A gentleman also doesn’t speak about someone as if they weren’t in the room,” said Sarah. Both males dropped their eyes. She settled herself and reached for her spoon.
She noticed Oz held his spoon between thumb and finger rather than in his fist, like most of the men using the dining room. Billy tried to copy him. He’d scoffed earlier at Sarah’s attempts to teach him, saying men don’t eat like that. Oz was a good influence on the boy.
“What did ya name yer dog?” asked Billy when he’d demolished most of his stew.
“Daisy.”
“That’s a girl name,” Billy complained.
“When I stopped to wash her in Warm Spring Creek, I found out she was going to have puppies. That means she’s a girl.”
“What’s she look like under the mud?” Billy ripped his last biscuit in two and wiped the plate with it. She’d taught him that much, so he no longer picked up his plate and licked it clean.
“Brown and white, mostly. She has long, silky ears and she curls her tail up high when she’s happy.”
Billy looked at Sarah. Knowing what he wanted, she tilted her head toward the stove. He rushed over, smacking his lips. He liked to take his time choosing a tart to make sure he got the absolute biggest. Oz’s smile reached his eyes. He winked with the one she could see, but laugh lines crinkled out from under the black patch of the other.
“When’s she gonna have puppies?” asked Billy, still undecided as to which tart to choose.
“Not for a while. Miss Sarah might be married to Luke by then.”
She was not going to ignore that comment. She set her spoon beside her cleaned plate. “Those puppies will have had puppies before I marry that man.”
Oz tilted his head to the right and looked at her. “So I’ve heard.” He rested his arm on the table and leaned forward until his face was close. He dropped his voice to a purr.
“I also heard that the streets of Virginia City are paved with solid gold, and that Miss Jessamine Bonham Elliott will never marry.”
Billy strolled over. “Huh! Everybody knows streets ain’t paved with gold, and Jessie got married last year.”
“Exactly,” said Oz.
He leaned back and dared her to reply. If it was Luke suggesting that she’d magically change her mind, she would have snapped a scathing comment at him. But this was Oz. She’d lost herself in his kiss, the first one that made her forget everything else while he touched her. She dreamed about him while lying alone in bed. The rakish pirate would be strong, secure, and sure of himself. He’d learn about her with his fingers and his lips, skimming them over her whole body.
And he’d find her mark of shame.
Her chair shoved back when she stood. It ended their conversation as Oz had to stand as well. He grinned, knowing she’d done it on purpose. He likely thought she was shy.
“I gotta take Da’s dinner to him,” said Billy. He set the handle of the dinner bucket over his arm so he could hold his precious tart in his hand and still close the door.
“What a thoughtful boy,” murmured Oz when Billy was gone.
He sauntered around the table and stopped beside her. He held out his hand, palm up. When she didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow in challenge. She narrowed her eyes and placed her palm on his. She could feel the heat rising up her chest and over her face, but she kept her spine rigid.
He curled his fingers, capturing hers. He bent over and kissed her hand and then nibbled her knuckles with his lips. He moved closer, until her nose was a few bare inches from his shirt. She couldn’t help inhaling. She expected the scent of leather and horse, but it was the something extra that filled her brain.
“Thank you for the excellent meal and your company,” he whispered.
She forced herself to look up at him. It was disconcerting, him having only one eye. She looked from the black patch to his blue-green eye, and back again.
“The other one works, but not well,” he said softly. “It doesn’t look too bad, but I’ve got scars. I don’t like to scare the horses, so I wear a patch when I come to town.”
The horses wouldn’t care. It was the people who would judge him by his visible scars, as they did Luke. Judge and condemn, without knowing how he’d been injured, or why. Just as they judged her.
“May I see?”
He blanched, but recovered quickly. “Of course.” He untied it slowly, his fingers trembling.
“I apologize,” she said. “If I’m disturbing you by asking—”
“No, it’s so tight it gives me a headache. I’m glad to take it off. It’s just that nobody’s seen
me without it in years, other than Luke and Gabe.”
Fading scars from below his cheek to his forehead bisected his right eyebrow, but it wasn’t as bad as she expected. Both eyes tracked her body as he looked her over. Even if he had little vision in that eye, she expected using both would give him a better picture.
She smiled. “That’s better. Now I can look straight at you.”
He swallowed. “You really don’t mind?”
“Why should I? It’s who you are. Some carry scars inside. They’re no less real, but no one knows about them. At least you’re honest about who you are.”
“You want some honesty?”
“Of course.”
This time she could watch his smile enter both eyes. The color intensified, becoming more green than blue. Her lips automatically curled up in response.
“I can’t think about anything but kissing you again.”
Her nipples tightened into points. She had to open her mouth to get enough air. His eyes drifted closer to hers. When she lifted her head to see him better, she heard him softly whisper yes.
He rested one hand on her right hip and pulled her close to his chest. He brushed her kerchief off with the other. She closed her eyes in embarrassment when he ran his fingers through her short hair.
“I cut it after—”
He swallowed her next words by brushing his lips over hers. Then he pressed deeper, pulling her tight against him. The combination of his strength and gentleness broke her resolve. She groaned and lifted her hands to his chest. He responded, running his tongue under her top lip. She shivered in arousal.
His hands lightly roamed over her back as he nibbled, causing havoc with her breathing. When he released her lips, she tilted her head back, gasping. He nipped his way down her throat to her shoulder. She tilted her head to the side to encourage him. He groaned and lifted his head.
“You may be a great cook, but you’d keep me hungry for years.” He rested his chin on her head. A moment, and he stepped back.
“I lose too much sleep thinking about you,” she said.
He laughed. “Angel, if we were together the way I want, we wouldn’t be thinking. Or sleeping.”
He put his hands in his pockets, as if to stop himself from reaching for her again. His smile faded and his nostrils flared. She watched his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard. Her swollen breasts and pussy ached for his touch.
“No quick reply this time?”
“I’m used to going without sleep,” she said. “But I don’t like tossing and turning in a cold bed.”
Oz closed his eyes and groaned. “Angel, that is not something to tell a single man after kissing him senseless.” Heat from his eyes seared her when he stepped closer. “Not unless you want to share that bed. You wouldn’t be cold with me there.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckle. “And if we do that in town without a wedding, the local busybodies would tar and feather us.”
She blanched, stepping back and putting her hand over her chest. “Would they really do that?”
“Probably not, but they might set the Vigilantes after me.”
“For what?”
“Since when do they need a reason?” He bounced lightly on his toes. “Everyone knows I’ve been in a lot of fights. They could easily make something up. But you’re safe. And I’d better go before I do something we’d both enjoy.”
He pulled his hands out of his pockets, frowning at the eye patch in his hand. He stuffed it back in his pocket.
“You’re leaving it off?”
“I only wore it because I thought it looked ugly. If you don’t mind, then no one else matters.” He looked around the kitchen. “Though things aren’t clear, I can see a lot better without it. Thank you again. For the food, the company, and”—he waved his hand at his eye—“the freedom.” His eyes stroked her more intimately than any of the men who had touched her naked body. Her body eagerly responded. His nostrils flared, knowingly.
“Angel, you’ve got to visit the Circle C for more of my kisses,” he drawled.
Sophie entered the kitchen from the back stairs, her arms full. Oz emphasized his words with a nod before taking the sheets and putting them by the stove for boiling. Sophie looked at her, and then Oz. She pursed her lips though Sarah saw the gleam in her eyes.
“Oscar Cutler, did you just kiss Miss Unsworth again?”
“Yes, ma’am, I surely did. Get used to it because I’m going to do it as much as I can.”
“Oh, Lord,” said Sarah, covering her red face.
Oz bowed, still grinning, and let himself out.
“Didya kiss her?”
Sophie and Sarah looked at each other. Billy’s voice carried far when he was excited, and the window was open. Sarah groaned, but Sophie covered her mouth to hold in a laugh.
“Billy, I told you a gentleman never tells.”
“But, did ya?”
Sarah cocked her head but didn’t hear a word.
“Ha! I knew she was sweet on you! Hey, you got two eyes!”
They heard Oz groan. Sophie looked out the window.
“He’s hauling the boy away by the shirt collar. I take it you’re the reason he’s no longer wearing that patch?”
“I asked to see his eye. When I didn’t faint, he decided he liked being able to see better.”
Sophie gave a knowing smile. “You do know he’ll demand more kisses?”
Heat flared up Sarah’s body. She nodded at Sophie’s wicked grin.
“I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Twelve
“This is intolerable! If this building wasn’t so close to my bank, and my house, I would burn it to the ground, and everything in it!”
Hugh Jennet glared furiously at Luke, who blocked his path. Jennet clutched a white table napkin, and a dab of what looked like egg blotched his chin. Someone must have interrupted his breakfast with the news of Sarah’s bakery. Likely it was Maurice Lumley, the officious hotel desk clerk. The man stood behind Jennet with his usual haughty expression.
Knowing Jennet was due to arrive, Luke had ridden into town shortly after dawn. He waited on Sarah’s bench with Ben Elliott and Deputy Chambers as townspeople gathered like a cluster of wasps around a rotting apple.
As usual, Buford Hames, the reporter for the Helena Observer, was one of the first to arrive. First thing he did was pull a notebook from a pocket of his green and black plaid suit and a pencil from his hatband. Hames was always cheerful and smiling, interested in the tiniest of details provided by eager gossips. Luke thought he saw a flash of something mean when Hames looked at Sarah. No wonder, if he was one of Jennet’s cronies.
“Are you threatening Miss Unsworth and her business?” demanded Luke.
Since Jennet hadn’t yet met the new sheriff, Luke wanted the banker to know Sarah wasn’t alone. He’d never gotten along with the blowhard or his vicious-tongued wife.
“I will not have a ragged cowman insult me in front of my own bank!”
“Let me through!”
Luke winced at the demanding feminine voice. He looked over his shoulder to see a furious whirlwind in skirts marching toward them like a battleship at ramming speed.
“There’s nothing stopping Miss Unsworth from operating a bakery,” said Luke to Jennet. “You sold the building—”
“To Benjamin Elliott! I should have known an Elliott couldn’t be trusted.” Jennet curled his lip at Sarah, who’d managed to push her way next to Luke. “I would never have sold anything to this, this, strumpet!”
“Strumpet? Is that the best you can do?” Sarah laughed at the banker’s red face, though Luke noticed her fingers curled into fists. “You think you’re a big bug around here, but you’re nothing but a—”
“Sarah,” warned Luke.
“Why would an important banker be afraid of a small woman and her bakery?” Sarah jammed her fists on her hips and glared up at Jennet. “Would it be because I’m more competent, intelligent, and better at running a business?”
; Luke cursed under his breath. The last thing she should do is antagonize the banker, especially in front of the whole town. Jennet’s mouth dropped open in a gasp before his eyes narrowed. A couple of guffaws came from the crowd.
“How dare you speak to me like that!”
“Actually,” replied Sarah, demurely smoothing her crisp white apron, “I find it quite easy.”
Jennet screwed up his face like a mad dog. Luke tensed, but Deputy Chambers stepped forward before Jennet could attack. Frank waved at both of them to back off and calm down. Luke figured Jennet’s teeth would be ground down to nothing if he didn’t relax his jaw. Sarah fluttered her eyelashes, taunting him with both her femininity and her refusal to give him respect. Billy, smiling widely, pushed her behind him, out of the way. The boy was tall enough that Sarah had to peek around him to see.
Hames scribbled furiously in his little notebook. Whatever he wrote would benefit Jennet’s bank, not the bakery. After all, the banker had far more influence, both here and in the nearby cities. This confrontation, exaggerated appropriately, would sell newspapers. It would also bring the curious to Sarah’s bakery. If she could keep it open long enough, the whole town might benefit from the scandal.
Lumley whispered something to Jennet, who wiped the egg off his chin with his napkin and drew himself up to his full height. He was still half a foot shorter than Luke. His usual sneer reappeared, but there was an icy edge to it. Whatever Lumley said had given him confidence.
“Benjamin Elliott told me he represented a man in Bannack City,” declared Jennet to the sheriff. “I would never have sold my assay office to a woman, especially this one.”
He looked at Sarah as if she was a bug to be squashed. She crossed her eyes at him. Though Luke’s fury had grown with every minute, he still had to drop his head so his hat brim would cover his smile. Sarah would not be cowed by the bully. She might be small, but she had the attitude of a ferocious lapdog. Chambers put his hand over his mouth and coughed. A few others shuffled their feet, though most of the crowd stood behind Sarah so wouldn’t have seen what she did.
