Delilah stood at the doorway and glanced around when they finished. “It probably needed a good cleaning, anyway.”
Dugan smirked. “I doubt that, but everything is all spit and polished again.”
The large room held, in addition to all the weather equipment, a floor-to-ceiling cabinet for supplies, a broad oak desk with a wide leather chair behind it and two straight-backed chairs in front of it. Shelves behind the desk and along one wall held more equipment, books, and interesting things Delilah and her father had collected including odd-shaped rocks, abandoned nests, and even a rock with a fossilized plant.
Come to think of it, Delilah didn’t recall seeing the piece of ore she’d found on one of her walks. Her father said it had a vein of gold in it, although he wasn’t sure how much it was worth.
“Dugan, I think I can report a theft,” she said, quickly going back over the shelves. She looked over each one then made sure the chunk of ore hadn’t fallen to the floor and been missed when they swept and mopped.
“What’s missing?” he asked, stepping beside her as she stood in the middle of the floor and looked around the room.
“Papa and I had only been here about a week when I decided to take a walk in the woods. I found a fist-sized piece of ore. Papa said it had a good vein of gold in it. I left it here with him and he kept it on the shelf near the brass barometer. It’s gone.”
“I don’t recall seeing it today, either,” he said, walking with her around the room one more time.
“It’s going to rain,” she said, hurriedly gathering the information she needed to send the evening report. It was close enough to five she could gather the details a little early.
“Which piece of equipment says that,” he asked, looking from the barometer to the thermograph.
“This one,” she said, picking up a pine cone from the end of the desk.
Dugan narrowed his gaze and gave her a doubtful glare. “I know I look stupid, but how dumb do you think I am? With all these fancy whizamadoos, you’re basing your weather predictions on a pine cone?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Delilah said, holding the pine cone out in her hand. “You know how pine cones have seeds inside them?”
He nodded.
“Well, when the weather is dry, the pine cone opens up and the wind can catch the seeds and disperse them away from the original tree. But when the humidity rises and rain is likely, the pine cone closes up to prevent the seeds from escaping because they’d get water logged and fall too close to the original tree. If it grew in proximity to the parent tree, it would always be a battle of resources for the seedling.”
She tossed the pine cone to Dugan. “That, and the barometer is showing a severe drop in pressure and the clouds outside are loaded with moisture.” She glanced skyward. “And there’s…”
A loud boom shook the sky.
“Thunder,” she said with a grin.
“Here I was, set to be dazzled by your ability to study all your gadgets and give me a scientific reading on the rain. Instead, you’re observing the habits of a pine cone.” Dugan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the desk as she jotted down notes for the evening report.
“You can still be dazzled. I don’t mind in the least if you are.” She shot a flirtatious grin his direction as she hurriedly checked the equipment and wrote more notes.
Dugan set the pine cone back on the desk and moved to the doorway. “The temperature’s dropping fast and the sky is dark.”
Delilah felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. “Lightning’s coming,” she said, just as a streak bolted through the sky followed by a crack of thunder.
When Dugan ducked back inside, she laughed. “Don’t tell me you suffer from keraunophobia.”
“From what?” he asked, flinching when another jolt streaked closer to them.
“Keraunophobia is a fear of lightning and thunder.” She finished logging the data she needed and quickly wrote her ciphered message.
After tucking the log book back into the desk and shutting the drawer, she motioned for Dugan to follow her outside.
“Are you crazy?” He pulled her back inside. “I don’t need to be struck by lightning and you sure don’t need to be out there in a storm.”
“If we hurry, we can be safely in town before we need to worry about it.” She took his hand in hers and pulled him outside. He tugged the door closed, having to jimmy the bottom left corner to get it to latch.
Delilah locked it then took his hand in hers again, pulling him toward the path that led into town. “You never answered my question. Are you afraid of lightning and thunder?”
“No more than anyone else,” he said, tightening his grip on her hand when lightning flashed again followed by a dramatic boom.
“Did you know lightning forms when the top of a cloud acquires a positive charge while the bottom acquires a negative charge, thus creating an electric field?”
Dugan continued to stare at the ever-darkening sky as he hurried her down the hill.
“Have you ever tried to push the negative ends of two magnets together?” she asked, amused by his need to rush.
“Sure, hasn’t every kid done that?” he asked, glancing down at her.
“What happens when you do that?”
“They push each other away,” he said, grasping her waist and swinging her over a snake slithering across their path.
Delilah tried not to shudder as he took her hand in his again and they resumed their trek into town. “Like those magnets pushing each other away, the same sort of thing happens between the charged base of the clouds and the charged electrons along the surface of the Earth. The electrons travel toward the Earth’s core, away from the clouds, creating a positive charge on the surface, resulting in an electric field between the clouds and the Earth. If the field becomes strong enough, the electrons in the air conduct electricity, providing a path for lightning to move from the clouds to the Earth’s surface.” She stopped and watched as another bolt of lightning arced through the sky. “Lightning can travel many miles horizontally before striking the ground. Amazing discoveries are made through work just like Papa does that enable us to learn more and, thusly, predict more about the weather and storms.”
“That’s all fine and dandy, but the one thing I know about the weather, lightning in particular, is that it’s unpredictable. Before we become human lightning rods, let’s get to some shelter,” Dugan said, setting a fast pace as they hurried to the telegraph office.
Another roll of thunder shook the building as the telegraph agent sent the message. Delilah thanked him then turned to go.
“Can’t we wait it out here?” Dugan asked, clasping her arm in his hand, keeping her inside the building.
She opened the door. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to spend the evening cowering in the telegraph office.”
Dugan grumbled something she couldn’t hear, but he took her hand in his and began running toward her house. They’d just reached the front gate when lightning streaked so close to where they stood, Delilah felt the current around her.
“Inside, now!” Dugan shouted above the boom of the thunder.
She unlocked the door and hastened inside with him right behind her.
They both stood in the entry, chests heaving, electricity crackling in the air surrounded them.
One moment, she was unpinning her hat, the next, Dugan’s hands were buried in her hair while his mouth captured hers in a scorching, demanding kiss that sent sparks sizzling throughout her entire body.
For long, glorious moments, his lips tantalized hers; teasing, tempting, testing. The sound of rain pinging off the roof finally drew them from their amorous interlude.
Dugan lifted his head and gave her a sheepish grin, although he kept his hands buried in her hair. At some point unbeknownst to her, he’d managed to remove all the pins and held her wavy tresses wound around his hands.
“I reckon I ought to apologize for that,” he sa
id with a cocky smile that appeared anything but apologetic. “But I’m not a bit sorry, Dilly. You stay inside out of this storm and I’ll see you later.”
With that, he opened the door and was gone.
Delilah moved onto the porch, breathing in the fresh, crisp air and watched the rain drench Dugan as he ran down the street.
Allowing him to kiss her like that offered more danger than any lightning strike potentially posed. Not a doubt existed in her mind that falling in love with Dugan Durfey would be the end of her freedom and the destruction of her heart.
Chapter Fourteen
A loud rapping noise awakened Dugan from slumber. He’d worked the night shift and it seemed like he’d barely crawled into bed, utterly exhausted, only minutes ago.
Maybe if he ignored the sound, it would go away.
The rapping continued. Loud. Relentless. Determined.
“If that’s a woodpecker, I don’t care how much Delilah likes them, it’s dead,” he grumbled as he rolled off the bed, glanced at the clock, and yanked on the denims he’d discarded just three hours ago.
Not bothering with a shirt, or even buttoning his pants, he grabbed his pistol and made his way down the stairs to the front door.
“Whatever the emergency is, it better be a dandy,” he said as he pulled open the door, gun at the ready.
“Oh!” Delilah squeaked. Startled eyes widened as her mouth formed a perfect O.
He lowered the weapon and pushed open the screen door. “Mornin’, Dilly. What can I do for you?” he asked, wondering what could have possibly driven her to his door. She appeared unharmed, although she looked unsettled. He took a step closer and her eyes widened even more.
Dugan set the pistol on a small table just inside the door then stepped outside, taking her upper arms in his hands as the screen door slapped shut behind him. Her hair was neatly twisted up and pinned beneath the brim of a plain straw hat. She wore a simple yellow shirtwaist with a deep blue skirt, putting him in mind of a bird she’d pointed out to him the other day, although he couldn’t, at the moment, remember what she’d called it.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to upset you?”
She shook her head and finally closed her mouth, although her eyes remained wide. Her gaze skittered from his chest to his denims, then back up to his face before it started the loop again.
Awareness that he stood before her in only his denims and they weren’t even properly fastened seeped into his consciousness. He’d worry about propriety later. Right now, he wanted to know why she’d sought him out.
Twice, she’d been out to his place. Once to visit the kittens, and another time he’d asked her to accompany him on a ride. She and Button took to each other like a duck to water. He’d offered to let Delilah ride the horse any time she liked, but she’d been busy and hadn’t been back for another ride.
“I, um… the train… my, uh…” Her words stuttered and stammered, like she couldn’t quite figure out a place to begin.
“Are you well?” Dugan asked, deciding to guide the conversation if he had any hope of finding out what was going on.
She nodded.
“Is something wrong?”
A head shake.
He was at least glad to know there wasn’t a problem, but he had no idea what she wanted.
“What do you need, Dilly?”
“You,” she said distractedly, her gaze again fastened on his exposed, bare skin.
If Dugan was a vain man, he would have puffed his chest out a bit at the look of admiration on her face and the yearning shimmering in her gorgeous brown eyes. It would be so easy to wrap her in his arms, carry her inside the house, and lavish her with his love, but he resisted the urge. Delilah Robbins wasn’t a woman to be trifled with and Dugan had never trifled with any woman, regardless of how much he wanted to.
“You need me?” He repeated her statement as he sidled a step closer to her and lightly rubbed his hands up and down the cotton sleeves covering her arms. “That’s mighty flattering, darlin’, but I’m pretty sure how that sounds and what you mean are completely different things.”
She gasped and her glance collided with his. He grinned as embarrassment stained her cheeks a deep shade of pink. “You need my help with something? Is that what you’re saying?”
Another nod. She swallowed hard as her eyes dropped and roved over his bare torso again.
Dugan began to feel his temperature rise under her intense perusal. He positioned his right hand beneath her chin and gently lifted until their gazes met. “What’s going on?”
She inhaled a deep breath then words spilled out of her all at once. “All the household goods my father sent just arrived on the train, including the furniture, and I was hoping you could help move things into the house. Edwin has offered his wagon and assistance, but some of the pieces are heavy and I need a pair of strong arms.”
He watched her eyes dart to his upper arms where muscles bulged even when he wasn’t flexing them.
“I’m happy to help. Just give me a moment to get dressed.” He pulled open the screen door and motioned her inside. “Have a seat. It will just take me a minute.”
Delilah walked inside the house and plopped down on the sofa while he raced upstairs. He hurriedly dressed, brushed his teeth, and splashed water over his face before he returned downstairs.
She hadn’t moved, but stared at him as he entered the parlor, fastening the buttons of his tan vest over the dark blue shirt he wore. “Ready to go?” he asked.
Silently, she stood and followed him back to the door where he slipped on a light canvas jacket and settled his Stetson on his head. He opened the door and she walked outside without saying a word.
Dugan took her elbow in his hand and guided her down the steps. “Do you need more than one wagon? I can hitch up the horses to mine.”
“Oh, that would be helpful,” she said, starting toward the barn with him.
“Do you have anyone else helping?” he asked.
“Deputy Harter said he could offer his assistance for a while. Maggie said she and Ian could help, too.” Delilah dropped to her knees in the straw of the stall where Prudence kept watch over her kittens. “They get cuter each time I see them,” she said, picking up her favorite kitten and cuddling it close as he caught the horses.
By the time he had Barton and Button hitched to the wagon, Delilah seemed to have regained her equilibrium. Had seeing him shirtless really rattled her cage that much? He’d take time to ponder the possibility later.
Dugan extended a hand to Delilah and helped her up to the wagon seat then swung up beside her.
“Barton and Button aren’t too fond of pulling the wagon, but they’ll cooperate just the same,” he said as both horses shook their manes, as though they wanted to shake the harnesses loose and return to grazing in the pasture.
“I’m sorry for bothering you, Dugan. Were you sleeping when I knocked?” Delilah asked, giving him a sideways glance as he drove the wagon into town and headed toward the train depot.
“I was asleep. I got off at eight this morning and had a few errands to run before I went home.” He glanced down at her. “But I don’t mind getting up to help you.”
“My apologies. I should have known you’d be asleep.” Delilah placed her hand on his arm. “If you want to go home, I promise not to bother you the rest of the day.”
“Truly, I don’t mind, Delilah. It’s my pleasure to help you.”
“But you already do so much,” she sighed. “Although I know it is a burden to you, I do appreciate you accompanying me to the weather station twice a day. It gives me peace of mind to know you’re there.”
After the breakin at the weather station, there was no way on God’s green earth he’d let her traipse out there alone, particularly so early in the morning. Whoever broke in and busted things up was the same person who’d tried to rob Clive Fisher’s mine office. Dugan had found footprints that exactly matched those left behind at the mine. The
distinctive star on the heel gave the man away, whether he knew it or not. Dugan just needed to figure out who the boots belonged to and he could throw the hoodlum in jail.
Until that happened, though, he worried about Delilah’s safety when she was at the weather station. So he continued to escort her there and back twice a day. He’d also suggested she not go wandering off in the woods by herself, either.
She’d given him a withering glare, but promised to curtail her bird-watching activities in the woods.
“How much stuff did your father send?” Dugan asked as they pulled up at the depot and saw piles of crates and trunks.
“Everything that he didn’t sell,” she said, grinning at him as he swung off the wagon then reached up to give her a hand. His hands settled on her waist and he lifted her in the air.
“Oh, my,” she whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders as he slowly set her down.
He looked into the warmth of her eyes and saw something spark there, something exciting and unexpected. Something that made him wish he could kiss her right there in front of everyone who watched.
Since the lightning storm a few days ago, he’d barely been able to think of anything beyond how much the kisses they’d shared had shaken him to his core. He’d never experienced anything like it and was sure the reason for that was Delilah.
A slap on his back brought him back to the moment and he looked over at his best friend.
Seth grinned and motioned to the stack of Delilah’s belongings. “Nice to see you dragged your sorry ol’ hide out of bed to help.”
Dugan scowled at him. “Don’t be giving me any sass. You at least had a full night’s sleep.”
“Even if I hadn’t, I’d still look more pert than you, especially if I’d ridden into town with Miss Delilah.” Seth smiled at her and took her elbow in his hand, guiding her over to the crates and trunks. He bent down and said something to her that made her laugh.
Dugan clenched his jaw and counted to ten before he marched over and slugged Seth in his all-too-perfect nose.
“I know just the thing for what ails you,” Ian said, clapping a hand on Dugan’s shoulder as he and Maggie stepped beside him.
Lightning and Lawmen Page 17
