by Sandra Jones
“You could always bring your work with you. Thorntree ran the town from the saloon most days, so surely you could do the same from the ranch.” He kissed her cheek and found it warm from the sunlight, indicating she’d been sitting there working far too long. Sighing, he straightened. “If you’re worried about what the voters might think, don’t. They know you’re a former madam, and most of the men of Fort McNamara have walked through your parlor doors, so they’ll be hypocrites if they oppose you.”
The idea of Cora running for mayor had been Thorntree’s, and Kit had agreed. Now that she was no longer a wanted woman, Cora would make a fantastic city official. She knew how to run a business, how to motivate people and how to use money wisely.
“What I need to do is look for a new place to live.” She swiveled around in the chair and searched through her papers.
Kit felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. She was right. The town would never elect Cora while she still lived in the bordello. Now that Millie was running the place, she would take the downstairs bedroom—likely marrying Ray soon too—and then Cora and he would be without a place to sleep.
He reckoned no one would object if they lived together once they were married. The only thing stopping him from asking her was the fear that she might not want to marry him.
Today, same as every day since Cora had been released from jail, he’d practiced how he would propose to her. Funny, he’d stared down a gun barrel several times and felt more courage those times than he did now for saying seven simple words:
I love you. Will you marry me?
A knock at the door gave him a start.
Cora turned around. “I suppose they might as well know you’re here again.” She smiled and shrugged.
“I’ll get it.” He released the breath he’d been holding and pushed down his disappointment at the interruption as he went to open the bedroom door.
Bernadette stood outside. Seeing him, she smiled broadly but didn’t look a bit surprised. All the ladies had grown accustomed to his sleeping arrangements with Cora.
“There’s a young man here to see you, Sheriff. Says the telegraph clerk told him you were staying here. I left him waiting in the parlor.”
Apparently, the whole town knew where he hung his hat.
He followed Bernadette into the sitting room where a dark-headed youth of about fourteen or fifteen years of age sat between the twins on the sofa, his hands gripping his knees. Flushing, the boy smiled as one of the scantily dressed girls combed his hair away from his eyes.
“Asa?” Kit boomed with surprise, recognizing the youth as his friend Rory Campbell’s ward.
The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he glanced up nervously. On the table in front of him stood an array of metal objects and gadgetry. “Hello, Uncle Kit.”
He couldn’t fight his smile, hearing the moniker the boy had given him though they weren’t related. In two strides, he reached the sofa and stuck out his hand for the boy to shake.
Asa stood and continued standing, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking as if he were a fox caught in a chicken house. Kit supposed, in a way he was.
“Is Rory with you?”
“Naw.” He shook his head. “He and Dell are with the children in Illinois. I came on the Dark Enchantress. I’m still going to school, but I took a month off to apprentice for Zeb.”
“A pilot’s apprentice?” He whistled. “Congratulations. I s’pose you’re working toward captaining a steamboat of your own then?”
“Well, maybe to build one someday—”
“Hello.” Cora came into the parlor and the boy’s attention snapped to her, his cheeks coloring as she smiled at him.
Kit’s chest expanded with pride for his lady. He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her to his side, making introductions.
After shaking hands with the boy, Cora asked, “What brings you to Fort McNamara, Asa?”
He glanced down at the table and gestured at the objects. “This.” Making no further explanation, he glanced nervously over his shoulder at the twins.
Sensing the ladies distracted the boy, Kit nudged Cora. Taking the hint, she asked the pair to leave. They did so reluctantly, but once the women were gone, Asa released a breath and sank back on the sofa.
Poor kid. Kit chuckled inwardly. The Willows could be powerfully intimidating to a young man.
Asa cleared his throat and got down to business. “I’m selling some of my designs, trying to make enough money to start a business back in Chicago.”
“Oh, what kind of business?” Cora asked brightly.
He lifted one gangly shoulder. “More inventions, engines. When I have enough money, I’m going to engineering school, but I don’t want to depend on Rory for everything.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Kit murmured. One day, he hoped he would also have a son who would make him as proud as he knew Rory was of Asa. Perhaps the boy’s visit would make Cora wish for the same…
“I know he doesn’t and he has the money, but I’d like to make my own way. I’ve sold a lot of things back home, even applied for a patent on one design for a better steam engine.”
“What are these?” Cora picked up a heavy-looking contraption made of iron, a chain, and rings.
“Handcuffs. I thought Uncle Kit might be interested in them, bein’s how he’s a sheriff now.”
She lifted an eyebrow and passed the piece over to him.
The object looked solid, practical. Its parts moved with ease, collapsing to a smaller scale for smaller wrists, yet not budging when he tried to open them wider.
“I wouldn’t try them on,” Asa blurted out. “I didn’t bring the key. It’s in my luggage.”
“Where are you staying?” Cora took the handcuffs from him and set them back on the table. “You’re welcome to a room here.”
Asa tugged at his shirt collar. “Uh, I’ve already settled at the hotel by the saloon. Thank you for asking, though. So—” the boy glanced back at him, “—do you think you’d be interested in investing in my engineering business, Uncle?”
He felt Cora’s interest and knew she’d want him to support the boy—which of course he did. “I’ll be happy to, but you’ll have to wait until I sell my first cattle. I’m only getting started right now.”
“Better late than not at all. Thank you.” Asa smiled, and Kit noted the rugged attractiveness of his features, which had no doubt charmed the much-older twins. In just a few short years, the youth would be grown and more comfortable with women fawning over him.
Cora leaned over the array of metal with curiosity in her expression. “I’d like to invest as well when I have some money saved back. But right now, you might speak with our former mayor, Ray Thorntree.”
“Oh, right.” Kit agreed, relieved to offer Asa a prospective investor. “He’s between jobs now and looking for a new business venture.”
“He’s wealthy enough too,” Cora added, reaching for another object on the table. “I’ll give you a good recommendation.” She selected an oval-shaped silver trinket, engraved with a rose vine. Her thumb rubbed across its surface with admiration that Kit found himself envying. “What’s this one?”
“Just a case for a watch. Sometimes I work on jewelry too, for extra money. I carry my own engraving tools for silver and other metals. Push the button on the edge.”
She did as instructed and a thin metal ring swung out. Her eyes rounded. “A magnifying glass.”
Asa shrugged. “That’s nothing. I’m working on one with tiny theatre glasses. I found a store in Memphis that wants three display models as soon as I can have them ready. If they sell quickly, the owner will order dozens more.”
“It’s remarkable. The silver is lovely.” She sighed, returning the piece.
Seeing the boy’s work and Cora’s frank interest gave Kit an idea. He would wait
until his young friend was ready to leave and then walk him back into town. Then he would commission a design for Cora. A silver wedding ring like no other, unique just like the lady he loved. Then, if he couldn’t say the words, he’d let the ring speak for him.
Seeing the ranch again on the horizon brought a mist of tears to Cora’s eyes. She wiped them away before Kit could see her. It wasn’t the first time she’d battled with her hurt feelings that day. She’d let Kit talk her into coming back with him, but she couldn’t help hoping he might have something else to ask her while they were there.
He knew she needed to move out of the Willows, and yet offered her no alternatives. Even if he didn’t love her, it would be nice if he would admit that. He also knew how she felt. How could he continue to keep his emotions to himself?
Naturally, he wouldn’t be able to marry her.
She wasn’t spinning outlandish childhood fantasies, was she? No, she simply wanted him to admit he cared for her and maybe, just maybe, he wished they could keep living together too.
Another wave of melancholy overtook her. When Ben greeted them outside the barn with a wave and opened the stable doors, she tossed him her horse’s reins and fled. Dashing inside the building, she hid in an empty stall to collect herself.
“Cora?” Kit called behind her.
She blinked hard to clear her eyes and sniffed. Once she was certain she had her tears under control, she stepped back into the main part of the building. And then she saw it. The big bathtub they’d shared the first day at the ranch. The steamy water in the tub smelled of roses, heavenly to her after their long travel.
“Oh my.” An array of emotions clogged her throat.
Ben and Kit stood at the barn entrance, holding the luggage they’d brought and watching her with interest. The older man scratched his head. “The bathwater’s still a little too hot. I timed it just like you said—”
Kit dropped a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Our ride took less time than I expected. I think we were both so eager to get here we rode a little faster.”
“I’ll say.” He grunted. “Miss Cora came in here like somebody’d set her skirt on fire.”
“Thank you, Ben.” Kit guided him toward the open door.
Ben dug his heels in, refusing to move. “I think I should tell you—”
Kit interrupted him. “A little privacy would be nice.”
“But the mail stage brought—”
“The mail can wait,” Kit growled, pushing the man out the door.
Once Ben was gone, he turned and held out his hand for her. The only fire in the room was in her flushed face…and Kit’s gaze. Her heart jumped.
“C’mon, darlin’. Let’s go have a look around the house. It’s been a while since we’ve been here. Maybe by the time we come back, the water will be perfect for a nice long bath.”
Not trusting her ability to speak, she nodded and took his hand for the walk. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice how sweaty her palm was.
They’d made love every night since she’d been released from jail, but to come back to the place where they’d first been together was almost too much. Especially since nothing had changed between them.
They were lovers, but she had no hope of being anything more to Kit.
Still, the other ladies at the Willows believed she would soon be Mrs. Wainwright. They’d insisted she bring something flirty and overtly sexual to wear tonight. Just one push, they’d said, would make him take the plunge.
So, feeling ridiculous, Cora had taken their advice and packed the most provocative pieces of clothing she owned.
Once they were in the master bedroom, she and Kit marveled at the place.
She gasped. “This can’t be the same room.” A small bouquet of wildflowers bound by a blue ribbon lay on one pillow. She set her valise gently on the bed, afraid her mundane bag might disturb the beauty of her surroundings. Like all the other rooms, this one was spotless: floor swept, rugs beaten, walls painted, mildew gone. No drafty walls or even rogue raccoons.
“Ben’s worked hard. I’m giving him two days off.” He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
“He deserves more than two days. He’s performed miracles.”
Kit kissed her cheek, and his warm breath made her shiver with pleasure. “He worked a little harder in this room. I asked him to.” He worked his lips down her neck. “Tonight’s special,” he murmured.
She leaned back, loving the way their bodies molded together as if designed for each other. Had she heard him correctly? She wanted to ask what was so special about the night, but she dreaded hearing another of his jokes. If he cared so little for her that he had nothing serious to say, she wasn’t going to coax it out of him.
He moved his mouth to her collarbone, closing his fingers over the buttons of her bodice. Unsteadily, he opened the first and moved to the next. Already her objections about waiting for the bath were vanishing, her fears subsiding beneath the escalating desire his kisses had stoked. As usual, he’d abandoned words for actions, and she would do nothing to slow him down. Her need equaled his, and she would save her concerns for later. All that existed was now, loving Kit and living in this perfect moment.
He slipped his hand inside her bodice to cover her breast. Loving the sensation of his rough hand fondling her flesh, she leaned against him, arching her back to give him more access.
A knock at the door drifted through the fog of euphoria in her brain.
Kit groaned and rested his forehead on her shoulder.
“Shouldn’t you answer that?” She felt her heart beating hard against his hand and instantly dreaded his response.
With a hiss of air between his teeth, he slipped away and opened the door. It was Ben. She heard him speaking to Kit in a lowered voice. A prickle of unease ran down her spine. Something was amiss. The old man had tried to tell him something in the barn. What were these two up to?
Kit turned back around, his expression puzzled. “I’m not sure what this is about, but I’ll be right back. Wait for me?”
He left before she could answer, what else would she do?
Ah, but there was her valise and the lacy things she’d brought to wear. Now she had her chance to put them on before he came back.
Holding the letter to the afternoon light streaming through the window, Kit read the message twice more. The signature belonged to the Wainwrights’ lawyer. And yes, he did recall drafting the note to the solicitor asking him to acquire a mail-order bride for him. But hell, he’d never meant to actually send the damned thing.
“When did Hastings contact you?” He returned the letter to the woman standing across from him and was barely able to meet her gaze after she’d traveled all the way from St. Louis.
He must turn her away, of course. He couldn’t very well have two brides.
“A week ago, sir. I boarded the steamboat immediately afterward, and we were able to make the passage up the Arkansas River.” Her blue eyes sparkled with what seemed to be remembered pleasure from her traveling experience. “I’ve never been this far west before. I’ve always wanted to live on a cattle farm.”
Ben returned with a cup and saucer. “More tea?” He grinned at the lady.
She nodded and returned his smile, carefully taking the cup from his aged hands. A widow, she was slightly older than Kit but still beautiful with dark hair threaded with silver and laugh lines around her eyes.
Presently, Kit noted the color high in his friend’s cheeks. Ben had entertained their guest for most of the day while waiting for Kit’s arrival. The old man had tried to warn him, but with Kit being a love-struck fool when he was around Cora, he hadn’t listened.
Now what to do with an unwanted bride?
“Mrs. Tambor, I feel most beholden to you for coming so far at my solicitor’s—no—my request. But this has been a mistake.” He gestu
red at the sofa. “Please have a seat with me so I can explain.”
After awkwardly recounting the events that had inspired him to write his letter to Hastings, he then told the lady about Cora and how he’d planned to propose to her. He’d never thought his request for a bride had been mailed. He’d left it on a desk and someone in the house, perhaps Andrea, had thought they were doing him a favor by taking it to the postmaster. “Forgive me, ma’am. It’s a horrible thing to learn after coming all this way.”
Mrs. Tambor’s cheeks were ashen when he finished. His gut clenched, and he prayed she wouldn’t cry.
She stared into her teacup, turning the handle back and forth distractedly. After a length, she took a deep breath and let it out. “No matter. I’m here, finally. Just like I intended.” Perking up, she lifted her chin and glanced between him and Ben, who was looking on with concern. “I shall simply have to find some means of providing for myself. What do other unmarried women do in Fort McNamara?”
Cora had washed up in the basin and was dressed by the time Kit finally arrived. With his back to her as he closed the door, he didn’t see her right away. But his mouth fell open when he finally noticed her sitting on the edge of the bed.
Exactly how she’d hoped he would respond.
She leaned back on her elbow and traced her hand across the lace and ribbons of her finest corset. The crimson undergarment was supposed to be seen, like many of the things her girls wore, but this one was unique. She’d purchased the fine French garment for her trousseau, though she’d never dreamt she’d actually wear it for any man.
Although Kit had seen her naked many times now, his earnest gaze always filled her with pleasure. This time, however, she felt the temperature of the bedroom rise with each second he watched. He moved toward her, staring at the places where her exposed skin peeked through the lace, the dark pink of her nipples straining at the peek-a-boo lace and the rest of her body waiting to be exposed by him.
She hadn’t been in the business of grooming ladies for men’s pleasure without knowing a thing or two about the art herself. She slid her legs onto the bed, stretching provocatively on her side like a buffet for his hungry gaze. Hopefully, he’d brought his appetite.
