There were no easy answers, though he wished there were. If―when―Logan came to town, he’d have to make sure no one got hurt. Not Desi Lyn, not Mrs. Calvin, or anyone else. Certainly not himself. He’d kill Logan before he let that happen, though he didn’t relish that idea. Just the thought of shooting another human being, regardless of who and what they were, made his stomach turn, but he’d do it if he had no other choice.
He glanced at Ryleigh and frowned when he should have been smiling at the picture she presented. Shotgun rested his head on her lap, and her fingers rubbed the silky fur of his ears. The dog was in heaven with all the attention and whined as soon as she stopped. She laughed and continued petting him, finding a spot that made his leg move quickly, scratching at nothing, and then she laughed again, which, as it always did, sent his blood rushing through his veins.
The moon ascended, casting its silvery glow all over her. Her face was in profile, her attention now drawn to the spirited bidding for the pies up for auction. Her grin widened as two young men kept trying to outbid each other for one young woman’s pie. Teague took a deep breath as he watched her and her obvious enjoyment of the auction. Despite his unanswered questions and the turmoil in his brain, it still took every ounce of his willpower to keep his hands to himself, when all he wanted to do was run his fingers through her long, ebony tresses and smooth his knuckles across her soft cheek before he kissed her.
He shook his head and tried to rid himself of the image he saw in his mind. It didn’t work. The image solidified, and he saw himself kissing the spot on her neck where her pulse beat as he slipped the buttons of her blouse through their corresponding holes to reveal the soft skin beneath. Blood rushed through his veins and settled, not in his stomach this time, but a location decidedly lower. He shook his head again, once more trying to dismiss the vision, as well as the painful arousal that made him uncomfortable, and focused on the dog enjoying the touch of her hand.
Studying the dog helped, and he was able to control his body once more as the auction ended with a flourish. Everyone was happy except for the young man who’d been outbid, but there didn’t seem to be any hard feelings as the winner claimed his pie as well as the young lady, and the mayor stepped up to the gazebo once more. He raised his hands in the air, drawing the attention of the crowd, and introduced one of the local ranchers, who would entertain them with his violin. The man made his way from the blanket he shared with his wife and climbed the steps to the lattice-sided structure.
“What would you all like to hear?”
There were shouts from the audience, each requesting something they could dance to. The man placed the violin under his chin and began to play a lively tune that had people clamoring to the dance floor. Nate and Celia joined the rush, as did Krissa and Oscar. A few moments later, assured that Malva would keep an eye on a finally sleeping Ellie, Elizabeth and Josiah joined the others as did Roy and Bethany.
From the corner of his eye, because he didn’t want to look at her directly and feel that sudden uncontrollable rush, Teague watched Ryleigh lean back on her elbows, her gaze trained on the violinist and the dancers. Her feet, stretched out in front of her, kept time to the music. He drew in his breath and concentrated on something other than her, but then the tempo changed from a foot-stomping reel to something slower, sweeter and softer.
He didn’t know what possessed him, but he stood and extended his hand toward Ryleigh. “Dance with me.”
She looked up, and a lovely shade of pink highlighted her cheeks. “Are you sure? I might step on your toes. Or worse.”
He grinned. “I’ll chance it.” He helped her to her feet and led her toward the makeshift dance floor, finding a spot where her propensity for being clumsy wouldn’t hurt anyone else, then pulled her into his arms and held her close, exactly where he wanted her to be, if only for this short moment in time. “So now you know.”
“Know what?” she asked as she inhaled deeply then rested a hand on his shoulder. He felt the heat of her touch through his jacket, and suddenly, the pace of his heart sped up.
“All my deep, dark secrets.” He smirked as he took the first step. “I was a terrible child.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think you were a terrible child. I think you had more energy than you knew what to do with. Did you really dislike school so much?”
“The truth? I didn’t dislike it. I was bored. Like Desi Lyn and yourself, I already knew how to read and write before I ever stepped foot in the schoolhouse. Mam taught me. She taught all us boys, because she believed in education. It was her desire that we all go to college and become lawyers or doctors or whatever else we wanted to be.” He drew in his breath, remembering her disappointment when he told her he was following in his father’s footsteps. “She never wanted any of us to go into keeping the peace like Da did, but that’s what we all ended up doing, except for Kieran.”
She stepped on his toe and stiffened in his arms, then moved to pull out of his embrace. Her face flushed, the apples of her cheeks glowing in the light of the lamps suspended from poles around the makeshift dance floor at the foot of the gazebo. “I’m sorry.”
“No harm done, Ryleigh. I didn’t need that toe anyway.” He chuckled, making it a joke, but she didn’t laugh as he hoped. Instead, she stiffened even more, if that was possible. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease. You just need to relax.”
“I can’t. I’m a terrible dancer. Someone always seems to get hurt, either my partner, myself, or some innocent bystander who had the misfortune of being too close to me.”
As if to prove her words, she stepped on his toe again. Thankfully, Teague didn’t feel it. Not much anyway. His boots were sturdy, though well-worn and scuffed, and despite being taller than average, she didn’t weigh very much at all.
“You just haven’t had the right partner.” He loosened his hold on her just a bit and spoke in her ear. “Let the music flow through you. It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He swirled her around the other dancers, keeping in time to the music, but taking shorter, slower steps.
She took a deep breath, which made her chest press against his and started to follow his lead, swaying to the music. “Yes, very pretty.”
Teague inhaled, smelled her signature scent of peaches and desire, hot and sweet, shook him, but this was not the time or place. There were too many people watching them, smiling the same knowing smiles he’d been seeing for the better part of three weeks now. Perhaps later, when he walked her home―there was no doubt in his mind he would―he could steal another kiss from her.
She stepped on his foot again, harder this time, effectively bringing him back to the here and now. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” He raised her chin with his finger but never missed a step. “Stop trying to look at your feet. Close your eyes.”
“Close my eyes!” Her eyes opened wide at that, and she lost her tremulous, hesitant smile. “Are you joking? We both know what happens when I don’t pay attention.”
“All right, don’t close your eyes. Try looking in mine instead.” As soon as he uttered the words, he regretted them, because now she was looking deeply into his eyes, and once again, he was falling into their violet blue depths, drowning in the joy he saw there. He also saw her uncertainty, and that made his heart thunder in his chest.
But it worked. By having her concentrate on something other than her feet, he felt her body relax, and he whirled her around the gazebo among the other couples.
Ryleigh gasped as her smile widened, but her gaze never left his and once again, he was drowning. “Goodness! I’m doing it. I’m actually dancing!”
“Yes, you are. And look, you’re not stepping on my toes or tripping over your skirts.”
The song ended, and the tempo of the music changed to another rollicking reel. “I think I should sit this one out.”
“Of course.” He led her back to the blanket, then sat beside her.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?”
He
grinned. Actually, couldn’t help himself. In some aspects of her life, she was so confident he couldn’t help but admire her, but in other things, she was so unsure. He liked that about her. Actually, he liked too much about her. “Same person who taught me how to kiss.”
He took his gaze from her and studied the dancers, catching sight of Desi Lyn as she followed the steps with David Miller. He smiled as he watched her for a few moments, then shifted his focus and found Mrs. Calvin, her hands held by Mr. Shaunessy, a widower who fixed all manner of leather goods, including saddles, from the little shop attached to his house. His focus shifted again and landed on Nate and Celia then Krissa and Oscar and, for a moment, his heart swelled in his chest and a lump rose to his throat at the display of love between the two couples. An uncomfortable yearning for the same filled him.
The music changed tempo and once again became softer and slower. Desi Lyn stepped off the dance floor and made her way through the maze of blankets, her face sweaty, and crawled into his lap. He pushed her hair away from her forehead. “What do you say, sweet pea? Do you want to dance with your old Uncle T?”
She shook her head and looked up at him, her eyes so dark in the moonlight. “You should dance with Miss Ryleigh again.” Her little face held a very serious expression. “I liked it when you danced with her. You looked . . . happy.”
Teague snorted in response to her disclosure and glanced at Ryleigh, whose own expression was one of surprise. He shrugged and grinned at the woman who was quickly becoming more and more familiar . . . and important to him. “Doesn’t seem like we have a choice, do we, Ryleigh?”
She shook her head, her midnight black hair shimmering in the glow of the moon. “No, it doesn’t.”
He moved Desi Lyn off his lap and rose, then extended his hand. Ryleigh slipped her hand in his, and he raised her to her feet then, hands still clasped, walked her to the dance floor.
What in the name of all that’s holy am I doing? The thought popped in his head as he drew her into his arms one more time and started moving to the music. Remembering her lessons from their first dance, Ryleigh gazed into his eyes and swayed with him. This time, she didn’t step on his toes. Immediately, that rush of longing flashed through him and settled in his bones.
When the song ended with a flourish, he was reluctant to let her go. She fit so well against him and felt so damned good.
“That’s it, folks!” The violinist spoke over the applause. “Hope you had a good time.”
People left the dance floor and headed toward their blankets to begin packing up their belongings as Teague led her back to their group. There were hugs and kisses goodbye, with promises to see each other soon, and in short order, Teague found himself alone with her . . . well, almost. Both Desi Lyn and Shotgun were looking at him with nearly identical expressions on their faces.
“I’ll walk you home, Ryleigh.” Teague lowered his voice as he moved closer to her.
She grinned up at him. “The hotel is right across the street.”
“I know, but I’d still like to.” She gave a quick nod, picked up the tin with the leftover shortbread, and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “Come on, Desi Lyn.”
The four of them walked through the park and across the street, careful to avoid the wagons and carriages carrying people home. They stepped up to the porch, but Teague still didn’t want to let her go.
“Good night, Ryleigh. I . . . uh . . . I had . . . thank you.” He pulled her close, then dipped his head and caught her lips with his for a quick kiss, but after dancing with her and holding her tight, one touch was not enough. He drew back and gazed into her bright eyes, then possessed her mouth once more, deepening the pressure until she opened her lips, inviting his tongue to explore.
Desi Lyn giggled. “Uncle T!”
As if remembering where he was―and that he wasn’t alone with her―Teague pulled back with an embarrassed chuckle, finally releasing his hold on her.
“Good night,” she whispered, almost in a daze, then entered the hotel, a little unsteady on her feet.
He watched until she disappeared up the stairs, then grabbed Desi Lyn’s hand. “Come on, sweet pea, time to go home.” He glanced down at her and noticed her big grin. “What are you smiling about?”
The little girl twittered and covered her mouth with her hand. “You kissed Miss Ryleigh!”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
• • •
Teague rolled over in his bed and bunched the pillow beneath his head. He should have been sleeping instead of lying here wide awake, but the unanswered questions in his mind that started at the picnic wouldn’t leave him alone, and his thoughts swirled like leaves in a windstorm.
What had he been thinking? He shouldn’t have danced with Ryleigh. Or kissed her again. He couldn’t get involved with anyone, couldn’t bring them into the danger that awaited him. Jeff Logan could just as easily go after Ryleigh or Desi Lyn instead of him. Even Mrs. Calvin could be at risk.
He couldn’t chance it.
What if he failed as he had done before? What if he couldn’t protect them?
He let out a long sigh as he rose from his bed and glanced out the open window, his heart thumping against his ribcage with the prospect of failing once again. It was after midnight, he judged, just by the way the moon hung in the sky. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table for confirmation, then shook his head. What sane person was wide awake at two in the morning?
Frowning, he moved away from the window and grabbed his trousers from the back of the chair where he’d left them. He slipped them on and left his room.
Desi Lyn’s door was open a crack, and he pushed it slightly to widen the gap. Moonlight streamed in through the window and fell upon his niece as well as Shotgun, who shared the bed. The dog lifted his head, and his tail thumped against Desi Lyn’s leg. He was afraid the movement would awaken her, but it didn’t—she slept like the innocent she was, her back rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
She lay sprawled on her stomach, one foot hanging over the edge of the mattress, both hands hidden under her pillow, her head turned to the side. The light summer weight blanket had been pushed to the end of the bed and trailed to the floor. Emily, her repeatedly repaired rag doll, was barely visible beneath her shoulder. He smiled, thought about covering her with the blanket, then decided against it. She’d only kick it off again anyway. “Stay, Shotgun.” The dog rested his muzzle on his paws and let out a sigh.
He closed her door, leaving it open just a bit the way she wanted it, then went downstairs, his bare feet silent on the carpeted risers.
Hoping a glass of whiskey would help settle his nerves, and unravel the knot in his stomach, he tiptoed into his study so as not to awaken Mrs. Calvin, who slept next door in what at one time was his parent’s bedroom. By the light of the moon, he poured himself a glass of the fine Irish liquor his father had preferred and took a long swallow.
The whiskey didn’t help. In fact, it only served to scorch his throat and hit his stomach like burning embers. Still, he finished what was in the glass and poured himself another, then wandered to his desk and sat. The chair squeaked a little as he scooted it forward and rested his weight against the buttery soft leather. He lit a lantern, the golden light chasing away the shadows, but not his uneasiness. His eyes fell upon the calendar on his desk, though he didn’t have to glance at it to know that Jeff Logan would be released from prison in forty-three days. It seemed like a long time, but then again, it might as well be tomorrow.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, mulling over what he should do, knowing it would be so much safer for Desi Lyn and Mrs. Calvin, and perhaps even himself, to leave Paradise Falls, yet dreading it just the same. The thought that his niece would not be here made his heart hurt, but not nearly as much as knowing what could happen at Logan’s hands.
Where could they go? Whispering Pines wasn’t far enough—not after everything that happened there. Durango? Marshal Thompson, a lon
g-time friend, would keep her safe, but still, it wasn’t far enough away.
He considered his brother, Brock, and his wife, Stevie Rae, but they were in Boston, which was just too far away for his peace of mind.
The only logical solution was Eamon and his family at Morning Mist Farms. Their ranch was close enough for his comfort, but far enough away to keep Desi Lyn safe.
Decision made, he pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer, the dark blue M bold against the white, then picked up his pen and began to write.
Finished, he folded the letter and placed it in an envelope and addressed it.
He finished the whiskey in the glass and poured himself another, then blew out the lamp, casting the room in shadows. He picked up his glass and wandered back to bed, though sleep continued to elude him as Ryleigh’s smile and sultry laugh filled his mind. There was no help for it. He’d have to keep his distance from the nosy reporter, if only to keep her safe.
Chapter Eight
Teague let himself and Shotgun into the house through the kitchen a few days later, the aroma of beef stew hitting him immediately. His stomach growled in anticipation. Mrs. Calvin made a great beef stew in a thick and savory gravy. Sopped up with a piece of her bread, it made for a satisfying, hearty meal.
Shotgun sniffed the air with appreciation, then trotted toward the stove, his nose coming perilously close to the heavy, cast iron pot on its surface.
“Shotgun!” The dog whined and glanced at him, but moved away from the stove as Teague dropped his hat to the table.
Mrs. Calvin stepped around the dog with a tsk, tsk, and set the table with the bowls in her hand.
His curiosity aroused, he asked, “Why are you setting the table? Why isn’t Desi Lyn?”
She grinned at him as she placed silverware on a napkin. “She said she had something important to do.”
A Kiss in the Sunlight Page 11
