by Kit Morgan
Miss Red took a deep breath. “We’ll see.”
August frowned. There it was again, that nagging feeling that she still had reservations. Well, it was a little late for those. Then again, maybe he was the one getting nervous, and it wasn’t her at all. Couldn’t nerves drive a person plumb loco? He’d better get a hold of himself, and quickly. “Would you like to see the kitchen?”
Miss Red nodded as Belle finally entered, having brought up the rear. “Oh, August, it truly is lovely. Penelope, you’re a very lucky woman to have a man who can build a house like this. I know full well he didn’t ask for help until it was almost finished.”
“Truly?” asked Penelope. “Tell me, Mr. Bennett, how long did it take you?”
He looked into her eyes. “Almost two years. It’s been a ... a labor of love, you might say. Sometimes I had to wait until I had more money so I could get the things I wanted. Take this stove, for instance. Best you can buy.”
She stepped past him into the kitchen and gazed at the cookstove he pointed to. “How ... how nice.”
He glanced between her and the stove. “You don’t like it?”
“No ... I don’t like the fact I’ve never used one.” She looked at him. “I’ll wager you won’t like it either, when things come to that.”
August pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “What say we see how things go when the time comes?”
She smiled at him. “That’s most generous of you.” They both knew she couldn’t cook a whit.
“What a lovely tablecloth,” said Eloise. “Where did you get it?”
“Mrs. Van Cleet gave it to me. Said it was a gift for me and my bride.”
Miss Red looked at him again, her face lit with a smile. He took a step toward her, and gazed into her eyes.
“Ahem,” Belle said, and made a show of patting her chest.
August took a reluctant step back, then winked at his future bride. She blushed a bright pink, and his heart swelled. He was becoming more than attracted to his English miss. He was starting to have feelings for her. But wasn’t it too soon for that? He barely knew her, after all. “Upstairs.”
Miss Red continued to gaze at him. “What was that?”
He licked his lips. “Would you like to ...”
“... see the upstairs!” Belle finished. She pulled Miss Red away from him and started to haul her up the staircase.
Eloise giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Miss Red demanded of her sister.
Eloise turned to August. “I dare say, were you going to kiss her?”
Now it was his turn to blush. “Kiss her?” he asked nervously. “W-whatever gave you that idea?”
“Where we come from, if you kissed her, you’d have to marry her,” Eloise stated proudly.
“I would?” he asked, now genuinely interested. “Is that so?”
“It’s true,” added Constance.
August looked at Miss Red at the top of the stairs, smiled, then bounded up them two at a time.
Belle jumped back as he grabbed Miss Red into his arms. “August Bennett!” she scolded. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Miss Red, on the other hand, was too shocked to say anything. Not that she could – in a wink of an eye August had taken her hand in his and locked his other arm around her waist. He looked at Eloise. “You mean if I kissed her like this?” he asked and kissed the back of her hand.
Eloise and Constance gasped in shock, but only for a second before Constance giggled and said, “No, you silly! A real kiss!”
“Constance!” Miss Red finally managed to gasp. Right before his lips fell upon hers and silenced her.
Eight
Penelope’s first thought was to slap him ... but then she felt the warmth and breadth of his chest pressed against hers, the feel of his hand now at the back of her head anchoring it in place. The kiss lasted only a second or two, but it felt like an eternity. His lips seared hers like the coal had Isaiah’s!
Even though it was not her first kiss – Eloise and Constance had exaggerated a bit about what one meant – it was by far the best. It also would surely be her last from this man, at least until they were married. After all, she had to set a good example for her sisters, and letting August kiss her like that wasn’t helping the cause.
He pulled away gently and gazed at her with the look of a schoolboy who knew he’d gotten away with a serious infraction. She gave thought to slapping him now, but all she could manage was to stare at him, her lips parted, her eyes locked on his amazing mouth.
One corner of that mouth turned up. “You look like you want me to kiss you again,” he whispered.
She swallowed hard. “Un ... unhand me.”
“You sure?”
“Mr. Bennett, this is ...”
“Nice?”
Her eyes darted to her sisters at the bottom of the stairs. They were staring at them open-mouthed. She glanced at Belle, who was not so easily shocked – she was glaring at August with as much matronly angst as she could muster. Which, given the circumstances, wasn’t much, as evidenced by her smile.
August caught the look, though, and let her go. “My apologies, Miss Red. I don’t know what came over me.”
“I do!” Constance said happily. “Now you have to get married!”
Penelope growled, at both her silly sister and her erstwhile fiancé. “My name, sir, is Miss Sayer.”
“No, I believe it’s ‘Mrs. Bennett’,” he corrected. “You heard your sister – we have to get married now.”
“August, don’t be such a scoundrel,” Belle scolded. “You’ll be married in a few days. Now behave yourself!”
He looked at her. “And I suppose Colin never stole a kiss from you?”
She blushed red and glared at him again.
“Uh-huh. I thought so.” He smiled and returned his attention to Penelope. “”I’m sorry if I shocked you,” he said. then leaned toward her and whispered, “though you did seem to enjoy it.”
Penelope’s mouth formed a perfect O, but no sound came out. She glanced toward where Constance and Eloise had been, but they had disappeared.
August took note, backed away from her and was down the stairs in the blink of an eye. “What’s the matter? What’s going on?” she called after him. She moved to follow, then belatedly realized her head was still spinning from the combination of her anger at his impertinence and her joy at that kiss, ye gods, that kiss ...
“Someone must be coming,” he said as he went out to the porch where Constance and Eloise had gone. A few seconds later, he poked his head back in. “Looks like Ryder.”
“Ryder?” Belle said. “As in Ryder Jones? What’s he doing out here?” She moved past Penelope and went downstairs to the front porch.
“Another Mr. Jones?” Penelope asked, somewhat recovered. She followed after Belle and joined her and the others.
“Mr. Jones?” echoed Constance. She spun to Belle. “Please tell us which one he belongs to – is this one mine or Eloise’s?”
Belle sighed in resignation. “This one is yours, dear. But he still has to finish his house, or you’ll be camping out on the prairie after you marry him,” she warned.
“Oh, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Constance began, then absorbed the shocked looks on her sisters’ faces. “Well ... for a little while, anyway ...”
“Now, I know Ryder like the back of my hand,” said August. “Make introductions, but...”
“But what?” Constance asked as Ryder’s horse trotted into the barnyard.
“But leave it at that,” August finished. “He doesn’t need to know yet that you’re his bride. In fact, if these boys find out who belongs to whom, they’ll be more interested in courting the two of you than taking care of their business.”
Belle frowned. “I’m afraid he’s right. They’re good boys, but they do get off track mighty easily. They both need to finish the tasks they’ve started before they can marry you.”
Constance let go a heavy sigh.
“Very well. But I think it’s silly.”
Eloise stood silent, eyes wide, then finally asked. “Then the gentleman at the hotel is ... mine?”
Belle nodded. “Yes, you have Seth, the older brother. Ryder is a couple of years younger. Duncan and Cozette did the matching, and Sadie and I agreed.”
“What, may I ask, was the deciding factor to match myself with Mr. Bennett?” Penelope asked matter-of-factly.
“Duncan and Cozette deemed you the one best suited to ...” Belle paused and took a quick glance at August. “... to handle him.”
August’s head snapped around to Belle. “He what?! What do you mean, ‘handle me’?”
Belle smiled. “I’ll explain later,” she said.
Ryder reined in his horse in front of them. “Howdy, all!” he said in a bright tone. “Say there, August, I didn’t know ya had company.”
August narrowed his eyes at him. “So you didn’t notice us when we drove out of town as you were coming from the church?”
Penelope’s eyes flicked between the two men, finally landing on the newcomer.
The tips of Ryder’s ears turned pink. “Oh, I might have seen a wagon head out of town while I was talkin’ with Preacher Jo ...”
August nodded as he eyed him. “So that aside, what are you doing here?”
Ryder shrugged as his eyes fixated on Constance and Eloise. “I just ... reckoned I’d come here an’ say howdy to ya on the way home.”
“You live in the other direction,” August pointed out. He crossed his burly arms and grinned.
“I thought I’d take the scenic route!” Ryder replied, sounding slightly offended. His eyes turned to Penelope’s sisters. “Ladies,” he offered with a tip of his hat.
August took a deep breath. “Ryder Jones, meet my betrothed, Miss ...” he smiled at her, and she glared defiantly back, daring him to say it. He licked his lips and chuckled. “Miss Penelope Sayer. But I like to call her Miss Red.”
“She sure has the hair for that. It’s beautiful, ma’am, if’n ya don’t mind my sayin’ so.”
“I mind,” August said flatly. Penelope stifled a snort as she watched him level his gaze on Mr. Jones, then jumped as he took one of her hands in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And these are her sisters, Constance and Eloise.”
Constance and Eloise curtsied, which elicited a smile and a gasp from Penelope. She hadn’t seen them curtsy in so long, she was worried they’d forgotten how. She watched as Constance straightened, and then boldly looked Mr. Jones in the eye. He gave her a wide smile.
“Don’t you have other business to attend to, Mr. Jones?” Belle said in a loud voice.
Constance jumped, as did Ryder. “Er, no, ma’am.”
“Oh, really?” she drawled.
“I mean, I mean, yes, ma’am!” His words were coming so fast, Penelope almost didn’t understand him. “I reckon this means I, uh, need to be going,” he said a little slower. “I suppose ...”
“It does indeed,” Belle said, her arms now folded across her chest.
He looked back at Constance. “It was a real pleasure meetin’ you, ma’am.” He looked to Eloise. “You too, I ...” he said, and licked his lips. “I’m sure I’ll be seein’ you ladies ... real soon.” He turned to Belle. “Will I?” he asked, his voice weak.
She smiled and gave him a single nod.
His grin returned. “Thank heavens,” he muttered. “Well, I best get my work done. Roof’s been leakin’.”
“Leaking?” Constance asked, her brow furrowed with concern. After all, she’d just been informed it was the roof she would soon be living under.
“Yep, but nothin’ a few extra roof shingles won’t fix. But heck, I can just stick a bucket under the hole if’n it starts rainin’.”
Belle groaned and shook her head.
“Bucket?” Constance said under her breath. She had started to look a bit ill.
“Get on home, Ryder, and get it done. Are you going to need any help?” August asked.
“Nah, I’m fine. There’s this fella comes down out of the hills now and then, he’s helped me a few times. I pay him a little so he can come to town and get supplies, then he heads back up. He’s about due to come down. He’ll help.”
“I think I know who you’re talking about,” August said. “Scruffy fellow, beard down to here?” He waved his hand somewhere near his belt.
“Yep, that’s the one.”
“Is he a miner?” asked Belle.
“Don’t rightly know,” Ryder said. “He’s not real good at fixin’ things, but he lends a helpin’ hand.”
“All I know is you’d better skedaddle home and get your work done,” said Belle.
“Uh, yes, ma’am.” Ryder tipped his hat, turned his horse and kicked him into a trot. “I’ll be seeing you around, August,” he called over his shoulder as he rode across the barnyard.
“That you will,” August shouted after him.
Constance sighed and fanned her face with her hand. “Oh my ...”
Eloise nodded. “He is quite handsome.”
“He certainly is,” Constance agreed, with emphasis.
“I’m talking about the one at the hotel,” Eloise added.
“I should hope so,” Constance said as she looked at her. “It would never do if you thought the man I am to marry is more handsome than the one you are.”
Eloise nodded as they continued to stare after Ryder’s retreating form.
“August,” Belle said as she stood smiling at the two sisters. “The man you and Ryder were talking about – I’ve never seen him.”
“He doesn’t come into town much. He just visits once every few months, then returns to the hills.”
Belle shrugged. “Oh, that doesn’t matter. What does is what Penelope thinks of the farm. Well?”
Penelope shook herself out of her contented state. She’d been holding August’s hand and reveling in the warmth and strength of it. It was all she could do to pay attention to her sisters’ conversation with Ryder Jones. “I ... I think it’s quite lovely.” She turned to August. “You’ve done a fine job – it’s a beautiful little cottage.”
He grinned ear to ear. “Why, thank you, Miss Red. Coming from you, I take that as high praise.”
She smiled and blushed. “You’re very welcome. Is there anything else you’d like to show me?”
“How about we take a stroll to the barn?” he suggested, his voice low, and gave her hand another squeeze.
She blushed. She knew what he was implying. He wanted to steal another kiss.
“I think perhaps we’d better get back to the ranch,” said Belle, pointedly. “Sadie has been there by herself with the baby a long time.”
August nodded, never taking his eyes from Penelope’s. “Whatever you say, Mrs. Cooke.”
Penelope smiled. In three days she would become Mrs. August Bennett, and be living here on this charming little farm. The thought gave her the reassurance that she had made the right decision to come here. It looked like she wasn’t going to spend her life as a spinster after all.
* * *
After August put his new chickens in the barn, he helped everyone but Penelope into the back of the wagon for the return trip to town. She thought it odd Eloise would choose to ride in the wagon bed instead of up front on the seat, but after watching her and Constance exchange conspiratorial looks with one another, she figured out what they were doing. They wanted August to have a chance to steal another kiss, and every time she glanced over her shoulder at them, they were looking at anything but the front of the wagon where she and August sat.
August also noticed, and every few minutes would scoot a touch closer to her – touch being the operative word. If he could manage it, he’d “accidently” brush against her, using the excuse of a bump in the road or a mysterious rut. At one point he leaned against her as he steered around a rock – a rock about the size of a walnut. When she gave him a suspicious look, he assure her that one could never be too careful about
the effect of a little rock on a wagon wheel ...
His flirtatious maneuvers gave her a case of the giggles that undermined her efforts to keep up appearances for her sisters’ sake. By the time they got back to town, it was all she could do not to reach out and brush her hand against him in return. But with people milling about the streets of Clear Creek, she quickly realized there would be no more chance to laugh at his flirting, let alone flirt in return.
He parked the wagon in front of the mercantile, set the brake, and jumped down. After helping the women out of the back, he held his hands up to Penelope. She stared at them. They were strong hands, calloused, used to the kind of work it took to run a farm. Would her hands become rough and scarred from hours upon hours of hard work as well? Would she, could she work at his side from sunup to sundown? She had no education in such things, had never imagined she’d ever be in a place like Clear Creek, staring into the deep blue eyes of the handsomest man she had ever met. No, never in a million years could she have imagined any of this.
“How about it, Miss Red? Are you going to let me help you down?” he asked gently.
“Of course,” she whispered, fighting the urge to lick her lips.
His whole body shuddered in response as he took her waist in his hands, lifted her from the wagon and set her on her feet. “Talk like that will get you kissed, Miss Red,” he whispered back as he looked into her eyes.
She swallowed. “I ... I apologize then.”
He lowered his face to her ear. “Don’t apologize for it at all, Miss Red. I like it when your voice is soft and pretty.”
His hot breath in her ear sent a delicious chill up her spine, and she closed her eyes against it lest she do something silly, like faint. She managed to nod in return.
He chuckled low in his throat, took her hand, and led her up the steps and into the mercantile.
“There you are,” Logan said to August as they entered. “Wilfred said you’d gone out to your farm.”
“Yes, sir – I had to show my bride her new home, and drop off my chickens.”
“I heard about that. Chase down at the livery told me you bought Mr. Turner’s rooster.”
