Summer Moon

by Jill Marie Landis

  “Harrison went to Dallas for a week to see some bankers about a loan. He left me to run the place.”

  Preston walked in after her and followed her to the counter in the rear of the store. Reed Senior had insisted that the folks who lived in Lone Star be able to buy almost anything, from ready-made pants and shirts to fabric, notions, dry food goods, even shoes and boots. There was a little of everything stuffed onto the shelves or piled in the back room.

  Kate picked up a feather duster and walked over to a shelf of molasses and honey crocks. Preston began lifting the items while she dusted beneath them.

  “I came to invite you to a salmagundi progressive, Kate. It’s this coming Saturday night.”

  “What in heaven’s name is a salmagundi?” She pictured a disgusting, fat-toed lizard lazing in a stream and wondered if it was some rare Texas specialty.

  “Your nose looks incredibly tempting when you wrinkle it that way.” Whenever he laughed, his entire face smiled.

  Kate found herself blushing and quickly glanced toward the open door, suddenly very aware that they were alone.

  Saint Perpetua, please don’t let him kiss me.

  He had never tried again, and she prayed he would not kiss her now. She was afraid—not of what she might feel—but of what she might not.

  “What is a salmagundi?” She concentrated on her dusting, trying to divert his attention from her nose or any other body part he might admire.

  “It’s a progressive dinner that moves from house to house. There will be at least nine couples attending. I thought you might enjoy coming along with me.”

  Couples. They would attend as a couple.

  It had been over a month since she left Lone Star. There was less than more of August left. Soon it would be fall and then winter. Christmastime.

  It would be her first Christmas away from the orphanage. The girls and the school with all its yuletide activities, the special Masses, candles, the scent of burning pine, and colorful decorations had all become synonymous with the holidays to her.

  An endless stretch of aching loneliness yawned before her. “I’ll go.” She decided quickly, before she could talk herself out of it. “I’d love to go.”

  She wasn’t actually in love with the notion, but nights in the boarding house were long, the hours overflowing with memories of Daniel and of Reed and the last tumultuous night she had shared with him.

  “Well, then,” Preston said, so delighted that he was absolutely beaming. “I’ll walk down and pick you up at five on Saturday,” he said.

  “I’ll be ready.” She hoped she could muster half his enthusiasm by Saturday.

  He lingered a bit longer, content to watch her dust. Kate wished a customer would walk in. Of all days for the place to be empty enough to fire a cannon through—

  As if he sensed her discomfort, he pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time.

  “Well, I should be going. I’ve a call to make before the noon meal,” he said.

  “And I have to finish dusting and then check Mr. Barker’s endless stock inventory lists—but first I’ll walk you out,” she volunteered. “I’ve been meaning to sweep the sidewalk all morning.” She grabbed a broom and started toward the front door.

  Preston tipped his hat and bade her good-bye, off to visit a member of the congregation suffering from gout.

  Kate soon finished sweeping the entire front of the store and then some and was on her way back inside when something crashed into her knees that nearly bowled her over.

  46

  A child’s arms wrapped around Kate’s thighs. At first she thought it was Timmy Peabody until she recognized the familiar striped fabric on his shirtsleeves.

  “Daniel?”

  She reached around, pulled him out from behind her, and immediately knelt down to his eye level. He was actually smiling. For the very first time, he wore a genuine, joyful smile. She couldn’t help but notice that he looked more like Reed than ever. His hair was still uneven, but it had already grown to his collar. Without thinking, she brushed it back off his forehead.

  “What are you doing here, young man?” She heard herself laughing for the first time in weeks. Unable to resist, she hugged him tight, then held him at arm’s length so she could take a better look. He appeared to be doing fine. Healthier than ever and no longer trapped in mourning.

  I made the right decision. Her heart swelled. They had done it without her. Reed and Daniel had survived on their own.

  She reached out and touched the luminous shell hanging from the choker tied around his throat. If Daniel was here, Reed couldn’t be far. She rocked back on her heels, scanned the street, and saw him headed across the thoroughfare, straight toward her. The sight of him took her breath away.

  He was more handsome than she remembered as he moved with natural grace and ease, looking like a man comfortable in his own skin. Anyone who didn’t know him would never guess the depth of pain he carried inside or what it had done to his heart.

  He might be a rancher, but he still dressed like a Ranger in his tall boots and hat, with not one but two guns strapped to his waist.

  His eyes never left hers, even when he paused to let a wagon loaded with hay rumble by. In his eyes she saw exactly what she had seen the night they made love—heat and fire and desperate need.

  He wanted her still, but his mouth was firm with purpose. He was not smiling at her as Daniel was. Even if Reed was happy to see her again, he did not show it. Not like Preston, whose emotions were as clear as a teardrop.

  Obviously, he was still upset that she had turned him down. He stepped up onto the walk and shoved his hat off his forehead. His gaze was intent, so much so that she feared he could see the hole where her heart used to be and knew how much she missed him.

  “How are you, Kate?”

  How am I?

  I ache for you at night.

  I long to hear your voice.

  I wonder what you’re doing all day long.

  I wish you were here to talk to.

  She left everything unsaid and smiled her most brilliant smile, determined not to let him see that she was standing amid the shattered pieces of her heart.

  “I’m fine, thank you. I see you’re both doing well.” She smiled down at Daniel, who was hanging on to her hand, swinging her arm back and forth.

  “He came out of it a whole new boy,” Reed said.

  “I’m so happy for you both.” When she looked up again and caught Reed’s gaze sweeping across her body, she almost dropped the broom.

  “We came in to get some new shoes. He’s growing like locoweed. We stopped in to see Jonah and Charm, and they told me you worked here.” He easily explained away the chance meeting, indirectly letting her know they had not come just to see her.

  “I believe we have everything you need in stock.”

  Happy to have a task, Kate held on to Daniel’s hand and led them inside. The simple trusting act, the warm remembered touch of his little hand in hers threatened to undo all her determination not to let them see how much she missed them.

  She helped Reed outfit Daniel with six new pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, three shirts, some suspenders, and new shoes. After he had the shoes laced up, Reed wanted Daniel to wear them home. Kate asked if she could pass the old ones down to Annabelle Peabody’s boys, and Reed quickly consented.

  Kate fumbled wrapping up all the new goods, caught her finger in the string, tore the paper. Through it all, Reed never took his eyes off her. By the time she finished she was perspiring and her hands were shaking.

  Mr. Barker would want a full accounting of the inventory, so after handing Daniel half the pile, Kate quickly made note of everything Reed had purchased.

  Then, as professionally as she could under the circumstances, Kate pressed her palms against the counter to keep them from trembling and evenly met Reed’s stare. “Will that be all, or is there something else you need?”

  “You don’t really want me to answer that, do you, Kate?”
/>
  The sound of his voice poured over her like warm honey. Her imagination ran with the image, saw honey running down her spine, her thighs, her belly. She almost closed her eyes. Her knees went weak.

  “No. No, I don’t.” She leaned against the counter for support.

  “Then, I guess that’s all. We’ll be heading home now. Thanks for your help.”

  Reed started toward the door, walking off like any other customer. Daniel was trying to balance his pile of packages. Kate realized she would probably not see Reed again until Charm and Jonah’s wedding—if he had agreed to be the captain’s best man.

  “How was your visit with Jonah?” she asked, stopping him in his tracks.

  He turned, shifted the pile to his hip. “He told me he and Charm are getting married in a couple weeks, depending on whether or not he can walk without help. He asked me to stand up for him.”

  “Charm asked me, too.”

  “Will you?”

  “Yes. Will you?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Well then. I suppose I’ll see you at the wedding.” She tried to sound lighthearted and gay but failed miserably.

  Saint Perpetua, intercede for me. Help me live through this, and I will never ask another favor, I swear.

  Unlike Preston, Reed was not of a mind to linger. Instead, he shifted impatiently. “Come on, Daniel.” He walked back to where the boy was weaving between the flour bins and the pork barrels, trying to see over his load.

  “Let me take those things or we’ll never make it out of here.” Reed relieved him of the pile and easily tucked it beneath his arm. When Daniel realized they were walking toward the door, he abruptly stopped and looked back at Kate expectantly.

  “Come on, son,” Reed called from the doorway.

  Kate didn’t think there were any whole pieces of her heart left to break, but yet another shattered when Reed called Daniel son.

  Daniel ignored him and walked back to the counter. He grabbed the edge and stood on tiptoe to see over it. His bright blue eyes, the image of Reed’s, shone up at her expectantly.

  “Please, don’t,” Kate whispered. Then she cleared the ragged catch in her throat and said firmly, “You have to go home now, Daniel.”

  He did not budge. His forehead scrunched into a fierce, familiar frown.

  “Daniel, we’ve got to go.” Reed started back down the aisle.

  Daniel frantically darted around the counter, grabbed her hand, and started tugging her toward the door. Kate didn’t know what to do. She cast Reed a silent plea for help.

  “Come on, Daniel.” He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, lowered his voice. “Kate can’t come with us.” Then Reed straightened and locked eyes with her. “She wants to live here instead.”

  Daniel leaned back and put all his weight into tugging on Kate’s arm. He pulled so hard his face turned pink. Finally out of frustration, he opened his mouth and yelled, “Come!”

  Then he let go of her. Kate was so startled she nearly toppled over backward. She didn’t know which moved her more, hearing Daniel speak, or having him so desperately want her to go back to the ranch.

  Unable to look at Reed, she went down on one knee, hugged the boy close, and kissed his smooth little cheek. Then she patted down his hair and slowly shook her head no.

  “I love you, but I can’t go with you, Daniel. You go on with your daddy now.” She spoke softly, for his ears alone.

  As she turned the child toward Reed and was about to give him a gentle nudge, Daniel slowly reached up and wiped a tear off her cheek.

  As if that was a sign that her answer was final, he did not resist when Reed took him by the arm to lead him down the aisle and out of the store.

  Kate watched them go. Not until they were out of sight of the huge storefront windows did she calmly walk down the very same aisle, close the door and lock it. She lifted the carefully lettered sign with the word CLOSED on one side and OP N on the other, turned it CLOSED side out, and set it in the corner of the front window where folks knew to look for it.

  That done, she started back down the aisle. By now she was crying so hard she ran straight into a heavy milk can, ricocheted off it and knocked over a tall, four-legged stool.

  Without bothering to pick it up, listening to the hollow, lonesome click of her own heels against the floor, she ran all the way to the storeroom in back and threw herself down on a pile of burlap potato sacks.

  Then she cried her heart out.

  Reed kept his eyes on the road and the reins threaded through his fingers, wishing he and Daniel had ridden into town instead of taking the buckboard, but he was still a little leery of letting the boy ride alone.

  Overvigilance wasn’t a bad trait, Reed figured, not where Daniel was concerned. He had almost lost the boy twice and wasn’t about to take the chance of losing him again.

  They were nearly home. Daniel was sitting rock-still with his arms folded as the wagon bounced unmercifully over the hard, lumpy ground. Since they left town, Daniel had devoted serious time to pouting. He refused to look anywhere but straight ahead.

  “You can sit there like a bump on a log if you want, but it won’t change things one hell of a bit.”

  “Onehellovabit,” Daniel said harshly.

  Reed glanced over. Though he was shocked, he found himself biting back a smile. “You’re as stubborn as the day is long, boy. Which is a Benton family trait that you will unfortunately have all your life. Course, you aren’t near as stubborn as Kate. I never saw anyone so set on making herself unhappy. She could have stayed with us, you know, but she didn’t want it that way. She had to have it all.”

  She wanted me to love her.

  I didn’t think I could.

  Something unexpected slammed into him today when he caught sight of her sweeping the walk in front of the Mercantile.

  Daniel had seen her, too, and took off like an antelope, darting across the street before he could grab him. He had stood and watched Kate’s face light up when she realized Daniel was there and hugged the boy to her. Almost immediately after that, she had started looking around for him.

  Seeing those huge dark eyes and the most tempting lips east or west of the Pecos had stirred him worse than ever, but after the first wave of hunger for her body had passed, he realized there was a lot more to what he was feeling than lust.

  Just the fact that he had wanted her there with him the night Daniel first said his name, that he needed her to talk to, that he wanted to show her how well Daniel was getting along, had been a shock.

  Over the past few weeks he had come to realize it was Kate he wanted to share the little triumphs and joys with, that he cared for her, Kate, more than just a little, more than he needed what her body could give. He missed her quiet, easy ways, missed the calm and order, the hope she had brought into his life.

  He wanted Kate around for who she was, every bit as much as he wanted to make love to her again. That had been good. Hell, that had been great, but after seeing her today and more especially after having to leave her behind, he wanted her as far more than a lover.

  He wanted to fill his empty house with life, and he wanted Kate to share it with him.

  The wagon hit a bump because he hadn’t been concentrating. He made a quick grab for Daniel’s arm and hung on when the wagon jolted. Once they settled and were rolling along again, Daniel slid across the seat and put more space between them; then he continued his pout.

  “You know what?” Reed acted as if Daniel might actually respond. “I hate to admit it, but I have the feeling something’s been slipping up on my heart since the last time we saw Kate.”

  At the mention of her name, Daniel looked over at him inquisitively.

  “Yeah, I know.” Reed shrugged. “I swore I would never let it happen to me again. I swore that I wouldn’t be crazy enough to let a woman own my heart again— and believe me, I tried not to. But somehow it happened when I wasn’t looking.

  “I don’t particularly want to go crawlin
g to her on bended knee, because I don’t know if she would come back, even if I told her . . . you know . . . what she wanted to hear. By now the preacher’s probably won her over, anyway.”

  Reed leaned over and ruffled Daniel’s hair just to irritate him and thought he saw the boy fighting a smile. Then Reed adjusted the reins, squinted into the sunlight, and sighed.

  “I doubt anything I say to her now would make any difference, but maybe if we both think on it for a while, we can come up with something convincing. What do you think?”

  Daniel, of course, had nothing to say.

  47

  The progressive was as enjoyable as Kate had hoped, a far cry from an evening spent alone reading at the boarding house. She donned her blue silk gown and Preston had arrived exactly at five o’clock, decked out in a new black suit and bowler hat. He proved to be so charming that everyone had naturally gravitated to him—and so, to her. All evening he was nothing but solicitous and kind, making certain she was never left out of conversations, always willing to explain whenever the talk drifted to Texas politics or other local issues.

  Preston had taken her home before the party to please Aunt Martha, who wanted to see them dressed up. With her glowing cheeks and smiling gray eyes so like Preston’s, his aunt reminded Kate of an elderly cherub. Martha hugged Kate and had even given her a small nosegay of blossoms fashioned from a climbing rose on a trellis beside the front porch.

  Inside and out, the house was cozy and pleasant, filled with flowers and the lingering scent of lavender. Kate knew that it was charming because of his aunt Martha, but also because he cared enough to make his aunt happy.

  Kate knew that Preston could offer her everything she should ever need or want in a man and a husband. Not only was he well spoken and well educated, but he was a man of honor, strong moral fortitude, and convictions. She could not imagine that he would ever think of making love to her until after they were married.