by Jodi Thomas
Looking around, Hannah had to agree. “I see what she means about the bidding.” As she looked at the many young women strolling from group to group, one caught her attention. A petite blond was watching her openly, as though Ford and she were no more human than portraits.
Before Hannah could ask who the woman was, the blond moved toward them with practiced grace. Everything about her was perfection, from her starched dress to her high-crowned curls.
“Good evening, Ford.” Her voice was almost musical. “I’m glad you and your new bride decided to come tonight. I was looking forward to meeting the woman you married.”
Ford nodded, suddenly speechless. Hannah couldn’t decide whether to offer her hand or bow to the woman who must be the queen of this little society. She was dressed in the prettiest dress Hannah had ever seen, all ribbons and pale cream lace; but on closer inspection, she was older than she seemed—maybe in her mid-twenties.
“Since your husband seems to have lost his tongue, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Allison Donley.”
Though the woman couldn’t have been sweeter, something in the way Ford gripped her hand warned Hannah to be careful. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Donley.”
Allison smiled just enough to show her dimples for a second. “It’s Miss, but please call me Allison. After all, I’ve known your husband for years and years.” She turned her attention to Ford. “Do be a dear and get your wife and me some apple cider.”
Ford moved away slowly, as if not wanting to leave Hannah’s side.
When he was halfway across the room, Allison turned back to Hannah and placed her gloved hand on Hannah’s arm. “I’m so sorry for you, dear. Gavrila told me of your forced marriage to her brother. To be hurried into marriage is crime enough, but to a man like Ford?”
It took a few seconds for her words to register. The woman wasn’t trying to be friends, she was offering her sympathy. Hannah’s pride straightened her back slightly. She felt fiery anger crawl up her throat the way it used to when the good ladies in town would offer her their old dresses, yet refuse to look her in the eye. “There’s no need to feel sorry for me, Miss Donley. I married Ford of my own free will and can assure you there is no finer man to be a husband.”
Allison looked shocked. “But I thought…”
“Whatever you thought couldn’t be more wrong, I imagine.” Hannah wanted there to be no doubt that the rumor Gavrila was spreading was false. Ford wasn’t a rag to be forced on her. He deserved better. “If you’ve known Ford for years, you must know what a wonderful, gentle man he is.”
“Well, no, I…” Allison’s rosy cheeks were starting to lose some of their color.
“I was attracted to him the moment I saw him.” Hannah couldn’t help herself. The lie was growing like a mushroom surrounded by manure. “A man so strong and gentle would have to be a fine husband. His every action since we’ve married has proved me right.”
“But, dear, he’s…” Pretty little Allison couldn’t bring herself to use the word. “…not handsome.”
Hannah fought to keep from laughing. The shallowness of this woman was far uglier than any word Allison could use to describe Ford. “He isn’t? I hadn’t noticed.” In truth, Hannah hadn’t given it much thought. Allison, on the other hand, seemed to be getting homelier by the second. If she opened her mouth one more time, she’d be a troll in Hannah’s eyes. “What’s in the package is far more important than the wrapping, don’t you agree? And Ford Colston, the package, is a wonderful man.”
Allison looked at her as if Hannah were simpleminded. “Well, yes.” She smoothed her dress as if it were her pride. “He’s asked me to go walking after church many times and I’ve always turned him down.” The blond lifted her chin, as though proving a point somewhere beyond Hannah’s reasoning.
“And you never stepped out with him?”
“No,” Allison answered.
“I feel so very sorry for you, dear.” Hannah used Allison’s words.
All the color suddenly left the woman’s face and she looked ghost white. Obviously, no one had ever felt sorry for Allison Donley.
When Ford returned and handed her a drink, she downed the entire glass in a most unladylike way.
After she’d walked off without saying a word to Ford, he turned to Hannah. “I wonder what’s upsetting Allison?”
“I have no idea.” Hannah wasn’t about to tell Ford what the woman had said. “She must have a fever; she looks pale.”
“I noticed that,” Ford answered, but his attention was on Hannah, not Allison.
Hannah slipped her hand around his arm at the elbow. “Do you think she’s very beautiful?”
Ford covered her fingers. “I once did,” he admitted. “But I was just now thinking that she’s too short.”
In more ways than one, Hannah thought, remembering her troll comparison earlier.
Slowly, as the evening wore on, folks came by to say a few words to Ford and Hannah. Everyone ate and then listened to Mrs. Scott play several songs. Hannah discovered the only person who really talked to them was Alamo Rogers. Unfortunately, every time he spent more than a few minutes beside Hannah, Gavrila would pull him away. Hannah was starting to wonder if the man didn’t have a hook tied to his coattail, the way Gavrila constantly reeled him in.
From time to time, Hannah noticed couples strolling out and returning later. When she asked Ford about them, he said he guessed they were walking up to Eagle Hill.
“Can we go?” she asked, ready for a little fresh air.
“Mostly single couples go,” he answered, as if his words made sense.
“Have you ever walked up Eagle Hill with a girl?”
“No,” he replied. She could see the pain in his eyes and wondered if it was because he’d never asked a girl, or because none had ever agreed.
“Would you go with me?”
“If you like.” His voice sounded tight. “It’s only a rise we built up like a fort when we thought we might get attacked by Indians. Things have been so peaceful around here the past few years, the place is starting to go to ruin.”
“I’ll get my coat.” A stroll up Eagle Hill sounded exciting.
She crossed into the back room, where all the wraps were stored, and took a few minutes to enjoy the quiet. Then she dug through the pile of coats until she found the new wool one Ford had given her and ran to join him.
He was waiting at the door, opening and closing his large hands as if forcing calmness through his body. “I thought you were never coming,” he whispered. “I figured you’d changed your mind.”
“Is there any danger?” she asked.
“No,” he answered. “It’s only a place for sparking.”
“Sparking?”
He took her hand and smiled as though genuinely surprised she didn’t know the word. “You know, for courting. For getting close enough to a girl to make a few sparks fly.”
They walked out into the cool night air. Hannah hugged close to his side for warmth. “Do you think anyone saw us leave?”
Ford laughed and welcomed her against him as he always did. “I think everyone saw us leave. We’re probably the main topic of conversation right about now.”
“Then let’s stay out a long time and give them something to worry about.”
“I love your way of thinking.” His arm circled her shoulder.
They walked in the moonlight to a slight rise at the edge of town. Ford took her hand as they headed up the incline to where a stone wall had been built about four feet high.
When they reached the center of the hill, Hannah looked down on the little cluster of buildings. “Not much of a town,” she voiced her thought.
Ford moved a few feet away and leaned against the stones. “True, but they had a great dream. They all thought they’d come here and tame the Wild West, bring religion to the plains. Trouble was, when they got here, staying alive and making a living ate away at the dream. They’re still holding to their hopes, but the town’s not growing like everyon
e, including my father, thought it would when we settled. The stores do a good business, but most of the cowboys would rather spend their money in Mobeetie or Tascosa. Some think that when the railroad branches off soon, they’ll bypass this town completely.”
“I like this little place.” Hannah moved closer to him, almost touching his shoulder when she joined him in leaning against the wall. “Everywhere I’ve ever lived has been rough and seemed dirty. It’s nice to see people having fun, raising their children, being neighborly, and not needing to wear a gun when they walk the streets.”
“You’ve lived in rough towns?” He wanted to ask so much more, but this was as near a question as he dared. Sometimes he let himself believe that she was just like the women of Saints Roost, but then she’d say something that would remind him of what she did for a living and how they’d met.
“A few so rough I still have nightmares about them,” Hannah answered. “Until I met you, I think I thought most people, even the ones who act nice, were basically bad. I thought that if I turned my back, they’d stab me if they had the chance, and that no matter how nice they looked on Sunday morning, they’d been shooting it up at the saloon on Saturday night.”
“And now?”
“You’re starting to make me think that there are good men in the world. I never pictured a man reading by his firelight and not drinking himself to sleep every night.”
Ford pushed away from the wall. “There are good men, Hannah, but don’t look for me to be one.”
“But why?”
“Because I’m not. If you could hear my thoughts sometimes, you’d think twice about even speaking to me. Maybe I’m worse than the drunks and gunslingers.”
“What kind of thoughts make you so terrible?”
Ford wasn’t about to tell her how often he dreamed about the way she kissed him, and how sometimes he’d open his fingers at night and try to remember how soft her breast had been when he’d slid his hand up from her waist in the cave. How could he explain that sometimes in the middle of the night he’d still be awake, thinking about the way she looked in the mirror’s reflection while she’d been dressing? He could never tell her of those thoughts or she’d hate him and run as fast as she could back to whatever dark life she’d known before.
“What kind of thoughts?” she asked again, moving closer.
“Thoughts about the way you feel in my arms,” he finally answered, wanting to be honest and hating himself at the same time. He couldn’t dishonor himself by saying more. Even the few words he’d said probably made it obvious to her how few women he’d held.
“Oh, those thoughts,” Hannah whispered in laughter. “I have those also. You’re the only man I ever willingly let touch me, or wanted to touch. There’s something about you that makes my palms warm, and I want to slide my fingers over you. If you were in a store, they’d have to hang one of those ‘do not touch’ signs around your neck or I’d be coming in every day.”
“I never had a problem until you came along.” Ford stared up at the stars, thinking he could almost feel her fingers sliding over the muscles of his back. “I had enough trouble talking to women, never mind thinking about holding one.”
She paced in front of him, suddenly needing to change the subject. “What do most couples do on this hill?”
“Hold hands…hug. I don’t know.” He was glad she couldn’t see his face. She’d admitted to thinking at least part of what he did as casually as if they were talking about their favorite foods. What surprised him was her admission that he was the first man she’d felt this way about.
“Kiss?” She stopped directly in front of him, startling him from his guessing.
“I suppose.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. She had a way of hog-tying his feelings into a knot and declaring him beat before he even knew he was in for a battle.
“Well, then, don’t you think I should look like I’ve been kissed when we go back?” Hannah couldn’t help but picture Allison’s face when they returned.
“Sounds logical.” He stood so still, he didn’t even breathe.
“Then you’d better get on with the job.” Hannah closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her. When he didn’t, she opened one eye. “Well?”
“Why are you doing this?” Though his face was in shadows, his voice sounded like he was in pain.
“I thought you liked kissing me.”
“I do,” he admitted. “But every time I kiss you, you either threaten to kill me or I end up married. I’m not some huge toy you can play with, Hannah, then throw aside. I want to know what’s going to happen to me this time. Every time I touch you I can’t help but listen for the trapdoor to fall open beneath my feet.”
“Forget it.” Hannah said, then turned and stormed down the hill. She wasn’t about to tell him that she wanted him to kiss her because she couldn’t stand the fact that Allison felt sorry for her. Or that she wanted to walk back into the social with everyone being able to see that she’d been kissed and enjoyed it.
Before she reached the bottom, Ford grabbed her from behind and twirled her to face him. On instinct, Hannah reacted.
She’d kicked at his legs viciously and slugged his chest several times before she realized he was no longer holding her or fighting back. Stopping, she lowered her hands slowly.
“Don’t ever grab me!” she said, out of breath. “I don’t like being grabbed by anyone.”
Ford didn’t move. “You made your point. I’m sorry. I had no intention of hurting you, only kissing you. I thought that was what you wanted.” He was dying to ask her what had happened in the past that made her react so violently to a man’s touch, but wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. This woman was ripping the patchwork of his heart apart one thread at a time.
Widening his stance, Ford locked his arms behind his waist. “You can hit me a few more times if it helps.” Her strikes didn’t hurt near as much as the knowledge that she was aching deep inside.
Hannah laughed nervously and tried to brush away her blows from his shoulder. “No. You’re right again. I may have overreacted a little,” she answered. “I don’t suppose you still want that kiss?”
Ford chuckled. “And folks think I’m half-wild. More likely I’m half-crazy, because I still do, darlin’.”
This time she didn’t close her eyes and wait, but stepped closer and pressed her lips hard against his. He didn’t pull away, but there was no fire as there had been before. He didn’t react at all. She pressed harder, but he remained stone.
She pushed away and turned her back to him. “We’d best be going. We’ve been out here long enough to have them all wondering. There is no point in standing in the cold.”
They’d walked halfway back to the social when he suddenly broke the silence. “Hannah?”
She slowed and looked over her shoulder at him. “Yes?”
“Stop walking,” he ordered as he moved closer.
She stopped and waited, trying to make out his expression in the darkness. The lights from the social were stretching out toward them, but she still couldn’t see his face.
“I said I wanted to kiss you, but not because of anything folks will say inside.” Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his hands to her shoulders. “I haven’t had a lot of practice, but I don’t think a kiss should be done just because it’s expected.”
“All right.” She guessed they were near enough to the church that anyone watching could see their outlines. “Kiss me the way you want to, but I won’t promise I’ll react.”
He leaned forward until his cheek touched hers. Then he whispered softly, “Put your arms around my neck. I want to feel you against me when we kiss. I like the feel of you near.”
When she did, he pulled her body close. Even through the coats, she could feel his warmth. In case anyone was watching, Ford must be planning to make this kiss look very real.
He slowly moved his mouth across her cheek to her lips, lightly tasting Hannah’s skin. As his arms l
ifted her off the ground, his mouth covered hers. His teeth tugged at her bottom lip until she opened her mouth.
Suddenly all that had gone between them during the week melted into one moment. She didn’t care if the entire town was watching, or if no one was, she just enjoyed his kiss. He made her feel so surrounded with warmth. He wasn’t trying to take something from her, or hurt her, he was giving as only Ford knew how to. Giving with such a blend of tenderness and need that she could only answer his silent cries with her own hunger for more.
Ford lowered her slowly to the ground without breaking the kiss. One hand pressed into her back, molding her against him, while the other hand moved into her hair, pulling the ribbon loose.
Huge hands lightly brushed her curls as Hannah moved her fingers into his brown hair. She closed her fist in the soft mass and gently tugged, as though she could pull him even closer.
Ford’s arms tightened around her, crushing her breasts against his chest. This was what she wanted from Ford, to be close, to feel him next to her. Hannah needed to believe a good, decent man like Ford Colston could care for her.
A feeling of safety blanketed her as she kissed him in the light from the church. She knew he couldn’t go too far, he couldn’t make demands on her. He couldn’t paw or grab, or hurt her as Jude had. There would be no bruises to remind her of this kiss.
She was left wanting more when he released his grip and pulled slowly away. She could feel his muscles tightening, as if forcing her away took great effort.
“We’d best be going inside.” Ford wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, but not here where someone might watch.
“I wasn’t finished,” Hannah answered honestly. “Couldn’t we do it a few minutes more?”
“If you like, we’ll continue once we get home.” He could hardly talk for the sudden weight on his chest. Did he really think he could kiss her like he just had when they were in bed without wanting more, far more? “Unless you decide tonight’s the night you’re going to use that Colt I’m getting used to having jammed in my ribs.”
