The awkward silence pushed him into action. “Shall we get this over with so we can enjoy Sarah’s wonderful meal?”
Faith moved toward the door. He followed her across the entry hall and up the winding stairs to the Hanovers’ second floor. Liam did his best to keep his eyes level, but they kept darting a little bit south of proper, which in his defense, was almost at eye level, as Faith proceeded him up the staircase. Her hips swayed gently underneath her skirts. How could a man not look when he could possibly take a misstep and fall to his death?
Okay, a little melodramatic, but he could prove his case in a court of law if the need arose.
He had no idea when he woke up this morning he would have a completely different perspective about the woman preceding him up the stairs. Between Hiram’s inquisition of him in the office earlier and the street plea to the good citizens of Creede to “love thy neighbor”, Liam’s point of view had gone from rigid to multi-directional.
If he knew Hiram, the all-knowing, all-seeing magician of the courtroom, the man was very much aware of Liam’s shift in perspective and was gleefully enjoying the hell out of it.
That thought alone made his face heat up another notch.
“Thank you, Liam, for volunteering to place yourself in danger. From the sound of things, it is highly likely I will need your reinforcement.”
Caught up in his own thoughts, he bumped into her backside when she stopped short at the top of the landing. He reached out to steady her at the same time she reached out to keep from falling. Her skirts tangled with his legs and before he knew it, they were lying on the landing rug in a heap of silk skirts and tangled limbs.
“Well, what the hell do we have here, Mr. Fancy Pants?” Charity’s mocking voice ruined the moment.
Liam tried to scramble up, but it took a few seconds to untangle Faith’s skirts from his legs. He jumped to his feet and reached down to help Faith to hers. They both stood in front of the previously fighting sisters who had found a new sport to enjoy.
“We came upstairs because—” Faith stumbled over her words and into an embarrassed silence.
Liam stepped forward as if shielding Faith from her boisterous sister.
“Because Hiram and Agnes are seated downstairs at the dining room table waiting on you two. It sounds like you are tearing down the house up here.”
Hope spoke first. “I’m really sorry our disagreement is disturbing the Hanovers. I’ll apologize to them right away.”
She rushed down the stairs and disappeared around the corner. One down. One to go.
He turned his attention to the remaining culprit of chaos, Miss Charity Montgomery. Faith came to stand beside him to show a united front.
Silence permeated every crack in the pine flooring. Dishes and muted conversations from the occupants of the household downstairs drifted up the stairs.
“What was you two doing on the floor? Even I know that ain’t a proper way for you all to act.“ The young woman in front of him was obviously trying to figure out a way to save face. He went on the offensive and counter-attacked.
“Charity, we stumbled and fell. Now, perhaps you can tell us why you and your sister were raising the roof.”
Charity looked between the two of them for a few seconds before she spoke. “Well, if it is any of your business, and I ain’t sayin’ that it is, but out of respect for my sister”—she cut an eye to Faith and then back to him—“I’ll tell ya. We, that is Hope and me, we was having what you call a debate.”
Liam cut a look sideways to Faith. She seemed to be as intrigued and amused as he was.
“A debate? Well, that sounds like a mentally stimulating way to spend the evening.”
Charity gave him a confused look. “Huh?”
“Normally a debate is conducted with words. From the sounds coming through the ceiling, it seems you have taken debating to a more physical level. What were you debating if you don’t mind my asking?” Liam did his best not to chuckle.
Charity’s eyes narrowed. “Listen here, Mr. Fancy Pants, we were debating about what happens when a girl, a person, stakes a claim and draws a line that ain’t to be crossed. You know. A girl needs her own space. And once she stakes her claim, that’s it. Ain’t no sister, blood or otherwise, better cross that line or there will be hell to pay.”
Liam watched Charity give a pointed look to Faith as if daring them to ask more questions. When they remained quiet, Chatty Charity bounced down the stairs two at a time, taking the same path as Hope, leaving them standing at the top of the stairs in stunned silence.
“I think it is pretty clear Charity has staked her claim on Sheriff Grayson, and I pity the foolish woman, or sister, who dares to challenge her. Come to think of it, I pity Miles Grayson. He’s not going to know what hit him.” Liam chuckled.
“Her bark is a lot worse than her bite. I can verify that as fact,” Faith offered.
“Are you saying she doesn’t bite?” Liam put his hand to the small of Faith’s back and guided her down the stairs.
“Oh, no. I didn’t say she doesn’t bite. I just said her bark is worse. But if she were to bite, she would definitely leave a mark.” Faith smiled over her shoulder.
Liam’s gut clenched at the sight. As much as he hated to admit it, Faith was about as beautiful a woman as he had ever laid eyes upon.
Feeling a little self-conscious, Liam dropped his hand from her back when they reached the lower landing. He watched the hesitation in Faith’s step.
She turned to him, her hand on the balustrade post. “I want to thank you for today in front of the office.”
“I did nothing to brag about. I should have beat those two ruffians senseless, the both of them, but...I’ll be honest. They caught me off guard. Completely off guard, in fact.”
He watched her shudder. “Still. If you hadn’t been there, there is no telling what could have happened.” She turned toward the dining room.
He should have let her go. He meant to let her go. And his guilt needed him to let her go. But there was something about her today he hadn’t noticed before. It was more than fear he saw in her eyes. There was a vulnerability about her that punched him in the chest. And a look in her eyes when she gazed at him.
“Faith—“
He watched her turn back to him, her face open. Questioning. And without forethought or premeditation, he reached out and pulled her close, wrapping her into his arms. He watched her face morph from shock to surprise to surrender. And right there, on the Hanovers’ landing, with two chatty sisters and his mentor and wife in the next room, he kissed her. When she didn’t pull away, he kissed her again. But this time the rest of him joined in.
13
Faith stood motionless when Liam reached out and pulled her to him, kissing her full on her mouth. Before she could process the fact that the man of her dreams was actually kissing her while she was awake, he kissed her again. She leaned into his body, relishing the feel of his arms holding her in place.
She wasn’t experienced at this sort of thing, but she kissed him back the best she knew how. She flushed when she felt his desire beneath his clothing. Her heart soared. Could it be Liam had changed his mind about her? Was that even possible, considering his past?
“Liam? Faith? Dinner is waiting.” Aggie stood at the dining room door. It was obvious she had seen them kissing but she didn’t let on at all.
The heat of embarrassment made Faith grow hot on her face and neck. Thank goodness her hair covered her ears; they must be as red as the hot coals in the blacksmith’s fire.
A peek in Liam’s direction revealed he was as red-faced and embarrassed at being caught in such a bold move as she was. Liam bowed stiffly in her direction, left her standing at the bottom of the stairs, and disappeared out the front door.
Should she not have kissed him back? She had wanted to. More than anything she had ever wanted in her life. And he seemed to want her to. But did he think her wanton? Perhaps a proper young woman didn’t kiss men they barely kne
w. Not in the middle of a crowded house. And yet, she felt like she knew Liam more than was proper since he was always on her mind. And in her dreams.
She touched her lips and marveled. Why would Liam want to kiss her anyway? He hated her, didn’t he? Because she was an Indian and Indians murdered his family. But he didn’t act like a man who hated a woman.
Tears pricked her eyes. Could she allow herself to dare to hope Liam might see her as something more than a—
“Faith? Are you coming, dear? Hiram is going to clear the table of anything worth eating if you don’t come soon.”
Mrs. Hanover, still standing at the dining room door, was waiting for her. Faith would rather do just about anything than enter that room, but it appeared she had little choice.
Humiliated, Faith pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and stared at the floor. “Of course, Mrs. Hanover. I’m coming.”
“Please, you are to call me Aggie, remember?”
Faith raised her tearful gaze and met the kind and knowing eyes of her hostess. “Of course, Mrs.—I mean, Aggie.”
She started to enter the dining room when Aggie reached for her arm and held her back, just for an instant, then whispered into her ear. “Give him time to get to know you, my sweet girl. He is still trying to find his way. But soon he’ll see what a beautiful soul you are, and he won’t be able to keep himself from falling in love with you, in spite of what he thinks he should feel.”
Faith stumbled and looked back at Aggie in surprise. How could the woman know how she felt about Liam? Were her feelings that transparent? Dear Lord, did everyone know?
She felt her face heat with embarrassment and was ready to turn around and hide in her room upstairs until everyone had gone to bed. But escaping was not to be.
“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think we were going to have to start without you. I’m famished and cannot wait a minute longer.” Mr. Hanover stood and pulled his wife’s chair out for her. “Where is Liam?”
Faith saw the pointed look Mrs. Hanover gave her husband when she approached her chair. “Liam had something unexpected come up. I don’t think he’ll be returning this evening.”
Faith almost choked on the woman’s words.
Hiram nodded and prepared to feast. “Shall we dig in? I don’t want Sarah’s wonderful dinner to go to waste.”
Aggie tweaked her husband’s chubby cheek. “I hardly think that is a possibility with you present, my darling.”
14
Liam’s angry strides carried him to the front door of his small but tidy home behind Doc Howard’s office. He twisted the doorknob and slammed the door behind him. Flinging his coat and hat to the floor, he stomped his way to his bedroom. His tie, shirt, vest, and pants ended up in the corner of his bedroom in a jumbled heap. A wadded ball of paper skittered across the floor.
Why in God’s name had he taken it upon himself to kiss Faith? He hated the woman. Didn’t he? Of course he did. She was an Indian. And Indians had killed his family. Then why wasn’t he livid at himself for betraying his murdered family instead of remembering how it felt to hold the damned woman against his body?
What must she think of him? A reprobate. A hoodlum. A blackguard. She probably thought he was no different than the drunken brainless pervert that had attacked her in Kansas City. The one she had to shoot to protect her innocence. Why did he care what she thought of him? He didn’t care one whit.
Liam pulled out a chambray work shirt, soften by years of wear. Shoving his arms into the sleeves, he didn’t bother to button it.
He pulled on a pair of well-worn denim jeans to cover his legs. He didn’t bother to fasten them either. Stomping across the floor, he crushed the ball of paper under the ball of his foot.
“What the hell is this?” He scooped up the foreign object and unfolded the gnarled piece of paper. It was his note from today. He glanced over his handwriting. His eyes were pulled to the spot where he’d scribbled out the word beautiful.
“Damn it to hell.”
He made a beeline straight to his makeshift liquor cabinet. His mother would be rolling in her grave to know he had invaded her china cabinet with the devil’s elixir.
His mother may have pretended to be a teetotaler, but everyone knew she kept a flask in her sewing kit for medicinal purposes. He smiled at the memory. That was a first in a long, long time.
Secluded in the quiet of his own home, wrapped in the comfort of familiar surroundings, he pulled the stopper off the bottle of Irish whiskey Hiram had given to him on the first day of their partnership.
He tipped the bottle and poured a careless splash into a crystal glass and tossed it back. The amber liquid burned the hell out of the back of his throat, but it felt good at the same time. He knew what to expect from whiskey. He knew what to expect from the legal system. Hell, he even knew what to expect from Lavinia Markham. But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what to expect from Faith O’Malley.
She was a mystery. An enigma. An unexpected delightful surprise.
He didn’t like surprises.
Kissing her was enjoyable. He couldn’t argue that fact. The feelings she elicited were delightful as well. And troubling. He was supposed to hate her. Wasn’t he?
He knew she didn’t deserve his hatred. But it was her kind that had murdered his family. Was he being a traitor to their memory, to the unknown fate of his little sister?
The anger and hatred he’d nurtured over the years screamed yes. But his common sense, his intelligence, his humanity all disagreed.
Faith was supposed to be a vile person. An undesirable human who had no reason to exist on this planet. And yet, she was a beautiful soul. She possessed a kindness that made her vulnerable to the cruelty in the world. And he could not deny she was enchantingly beautiful. Those eyes of hers made him feel things he didn’t want to feel.
Liam splashed another generous portion of whiskey into his glass and made himself comfortable in his favorite over-stuffed chair. It, the bed he slept in, and his mother’s china cabinet were the only physical things he had left of his parents. And sister. A life long gone.
Lying back on the plush cushions, he crossed his legs at the ankle and stared up at the squares of decorative tin on the ceiling.
Today had started out on a comfortable note. But then everything had changed. Lavinia’s unpleasant visit. Faith’s fall from the ladder. Drunks accosting Faith outside the office door. The speech Hiram made to the citizens of Creede. The march upstairs to save the Hanover household from ruin. And then, the kiss.
Liam’s groin hitched at the thought of holding Faith in his arms, kissing her and feeling her press against him. Kissing him back. Why had she done that? Was she used to kissing random men? He didn’t think so. She was so timid and shy. The thought was hardly plausible. A certain boldness was present with that type of woman, and Faith did not possess that aggressive behavior.
So, why did she—wait a minute.
“Wait just a damn minute.” Liam sat up, his sock feet thudded on the hardwood floors. He took another gulp of his whiskey and stared at the rug next to the fireplace.
Something had changed between them today. And it wasn’t just him. At least he didn’t think so.
Liam had been around many women during his thirty-one years. And, after law school, he soon learned his kind was on the most wanted list for every mother who wished to marry her daughter to a professional man. It was some type of unwritten “mother code” every young professional man was aware of and did his best to avoid the sticky web of marital entrapments.
It wasn’t as if he never wanted to get married. But he wanted to be actively involved in the process and not a lamb led to the sacrificial altar.
“She’s looking for a husband. How could I have been so blind? That has to be the reason she kissed me. You would think by now I wouldn’t be so trusting.”
She was a woman with beauty and brains on probation for manslaughter. She wanted respectability and what better way to acq
uire what would otherwise be unattainable to her than to marry into it. Respectability didn’t come any more acceptable than the Hanover-O’Brien Law Firm.
Gulping the remainder of his whiskey down, he buttoned his shirt and pants, pulled on his work boots, and grabbed a jacket off the rack next to the front door. He threw the offending paper into the rubbish bin, latched the door behind him, and stomped downtown to the Holy Moses Saloon. He needed something to block out the soulful eyes of the beautiful woman he wanted, yet needed to keep at a distance.
“Not on your life, Faith No-Name O’Malley. Not on your life or the lives of my parents and sister will I marry the likes of you.”
He ignored the twitch of guilt in his chest as he said those words aloud.
Liam vowed to fight his feelings for this woman and never allow his attraction to blind him to the truth. His conscience tried to remind him that the truth wasn’t always black and white but every shade of gray. And brown. But right now he wasn’t in the mood to listen. He pushed open the swinging doors of the Holy Moses. Right now, he was in the mood for a little distraction.
15
Faith woke exhausted the next morning. She dressed slowly, limbs sluggish with fatigue. The sun rose through her window, but she struggled to do the same. She’d tossed and turned all night, thinking about a man with the twinkling blue eyes. The same man who had kissed her. And reality was even more luscious than her dreams.
Faith lay her brush down on the top of her vanity and touched her lips with her fingertips. She closed her eyes and tried to remember everything she could about that kiss. The way Liam smelled. His warm breath on her skin. His lips, soft and demanding—
She was startled out of her thoughts by her sister, Hope, calling to her through her bedroom door. “Faith, are you ready yet? We wanted to walk you to work.”
“Yes, yes, I’m coming.” She pinned her hat in place, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and picked up her reticule.
Faith Page 8
