One Magic Night

by Cheryl Pierson

  It sounded as if she’d had personal experience, he thought. He reached to touch her jaw line with his thumb, then cupped her cheek with his palm, reveling in the soft warmth of her delicate skin beneath his touch. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” His voice sounded uneven and rough. She lifted her hand to his and pressed it closer for a moment, closing her eyes as if to meld this memory of the feel of his touch to her soul.

  “Shay Logan,” she whispered softly, “You could never hurt me. Not in a million years.”

  One more minute in the magic of her spell, and he would kiss her. That would end all speculation of gossip, should they be seen. He turned away abruptly, her quiet words haunting him. No, Shay thought as they started back, he couldn’t, but everyone in the small settlement of Talihina might be all too willing. Gossip, a careless whisper, a raised eyebrow, innuendo could be the sharpest cut.

  They’d already stayed too long in that wooded glen, the dappling of sunlight becoming more shadow than light just in the short time they’d been there. As they stepped out of the trees back into the churchyard, Shay knew he’d made a grave error in judgment. He should have allowed Delcie to accompany him.

  Shay reached to help Katrina step over a fallen log. When he turned back toward the churchyard, several stone faced older women glared at him—and Katrina—from where the picnic tables stood ready for the festivities.

  A tall, thin man with russet colored hair separated from a large group of men and headed toward Shay and Katrina.

  ****

  “Papa,” Katrina muttered under her breath. She felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. Could another thing go wrong?

  “Have I anything to fear?” Shay quipped, and in that instant, Katrina felt her heart leave her. Shay Logan was going to try to intercede on her behalf and meanwhile, he was doing his best to lighten the mood. If that was at all possible, with Papa bearing down on her.

  Before she could respond, Delcie and Tom hurried over, reaching them only seconds before Truman Whitworth.

  “Trina, darling—my goodness, have you turned your ankle again?”

  Dear, dear Delcie. Trina breathed a soft, relieved, sigh. “Oh, yes…I—”

  “Here, dear,” Delcie slipped under Katrina’s arm. “Let me help you sit down.” They took two steps, Katrina limping on her right foot.

  Shay would certainly be glad to have escaped her company, she thought, a shaft of disappointment spearing through her.

  “Katrina, honey, are you all right?” Truman Whitworth’s tone was edgy. “You weren’t harmed were you?”

  Katrina stopped and turned to face her father, knowing full well what he was intimating. “Harmed?” she asked innocently. “How do you mean, Papa?”

  Delcie gave her a pinch, maneuvering her toward the bench by the church steps.

  “Ow!”

  “Oh, honey,” Delcie said quickly, “your poor foot!”

  “Here, let me help you.” Truman Whitworth took Katrina’s arm. Over his lowered head, Katrina met Shay’s knowing dark eyes. He winked at her, and she glanced away, flustered.

  They reached the bench and she sank down with relief. But, it was short lived, as her father straightened and turned directly to Shay, fixing him with a hard glare. “What are your intentions concerning my daughter, Dr. Logan?”

  “Papa!” Katrina jumped to her feet, heedless of her “injury.”

  Her father didn’t waiver. He didn’t look at her. Delcie took a step back, surprised as well. Shay stood his ground, unflinchingly.

  Whitworth’s face reddened. “Well?”

  “I’m…not sure I understand what you’re asking, Mr. Whitworth.”

  “Dammit, man, you know precisely what—”

  “Papa!” Oh, she couldn’t bear it! She wanted to die of shame.

  “Hush, Katrina!”

  “No!”

  A collective gasp went up from the crowd that had gathered. Her father turned and raised his hand, his face a mask of fury. “Insolent girl!”

  “Nothing happened! I—”

  As his hand started its descent, Katrina turned away. But Shay’s arm shot out, grasping Whitworth’s hand and holding it immobile.

  “You will not.”

  Three words, quietly spoken, but with a heat that could have melted iron, a force that could have toppled mountains.

  Katrina’s father’s face contorted, his teeth bared, finally, as he tried to jerk away. He didn’t utter a word. He stared up into Shay Logan’s eyes that promised retribution, as the seconds ticked by. Finally, he lunged once more, trying to pull free, but Shay still held him locked in a grip of steel. Only when he released that grip was Whitworth freed.

  “You presume too much, Doctor Logan, unless you are assuming the care and responsibility of my daughter.”

  “Papa! Oh, please!” Katrina felt herself dissolving into a puddle of less than nothing beneath stares of the townspeople of Talihina. What had started as an exciting, beautiful evening had become an embarrassing nightmare. It was torture to think that she was the cause of it all. How she wished she had stayed home with Jeremy as she’d first planned, before Mrs. Howard had volunteered to keep him company.

  Now, Papa was saying these things that she knew he would regret later. It was always this way when he drank too much. These accusations had gone beyond the pale of anything he’d ever said before. But Shay Logan wouldn’t realize that. He wouldn’t know that Papa would be sorry tomorrow.

  Evidently, there was one thing Shay did recognize, though. She saw the very slight flare of his nostrils as he drew in the scent of alcohol on her father’s breath, and in that instant, there was a flash of understanding in his eyes.

  “You’ve had too much to drink, Mr. Whitworth,” he said in an even tone. “I will overlook your behavior toward me because of that, but not toward your daughter. She has done nothing, yet you would strike her, and cause her shame.”

  “She’s my daughter,” Whitworth replied sullenly.

  “But not your property, Whitworth. Never that. You owe her an apology.”

  “No, Shay, really—” Katrina began, then as her father whirled to look at her, she broke off, realizing her mistake. ‘Shay,’ she had called him. As if she had known him forever. As if she was entitled to use his given name freely. As if she were his betrothed.

  “‘Shay’ is it, daughter? Not, ‘Dr. Logan’? Shay.” He spit the words out bitterly. He drew himself up, looking Shay in the face. “I’ll not be apologizing to her—or to you. And I’ll expect nothing less than a wedding before this week’s end. Do you understand me, Doctor?”

  Shay had lost any patience he might have harbored. “You understand me, Whitworth. You will not dictate to me, or to your daughter on such matters of the heart. As I say, the alcohol has got you saying things you’re going to regret, and—”

  “Threatening me, are you? Threatening me?”

  “Truman.” Jack Thompson stepped out of the crowd and smoothly came to stand beside Katrina. “Let’s put this…unfortunate incident…behind us, shall we?” He confidently tucked Katrina’s hand around his arm. “I can see that the church auxiliary ladies have almost got everything set up for this wonderful Independence Day meal—” he frowned at Mrs. Beal, nodding at the picnic tables behind her. She jumped, motioning the other ladies to resume the preparation.

  He gave a sweeping glance around the group of onlookers. “I, for one, am ready to eat! How about you all?”

  Katrina was swept along at his side as he walked toward the tables, speaking to acquaintances and friends, laughing and…and seething with tense anger the entire time. She could feel it in his body, with every step he took and the tightness of his grip as he covered her hand with his. Katrina glanced back over her shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Shay, but the crowd blocked her view.

  “Smile, my dear,” Jack gritted into her ear. “I’m hoping we can still salvage your virtue, no matter what happened, really, between you and the good doctor. If I see him near you again, I’l
l kill him.”

  Katrina jerked her arm free, slapping him soundly. “Do not dare to say such things to me!” Her heart pounded with livid, raw anger. Though Jack Thompson had courted her the past few weeks, she had never been truly taken with him. There had been a basic insincerity in him that she’d recognized on a deeper level, never being able to name it until this moment. That he would come to her rescue, then throw his suspicions in her face all in one fateful instant was hard to accept, even though she hadn’t truly been in love with him.

  The jovial smile disappeared slowly, to be replaced with a snarl. He gave her a mocking bow. “My apologies, Miss Whitworth, if there was some…misunderstanding. I realize you are…distraught at this moment. Perhaps some nourishment will improve your disposition. I leave that to you.” With that, he turned and stalked away, leaving her standing beside the first of three long trestle tables laden with food and drink.

  Heartsick and humiliated, she hardly knew which way to run. If not for Delcie, she would have been alone in the crowd of familiar faces. Dear, dear Delcie, who once again came to stand beside her, knowing just the thing to say to give her back her composure.

  “I heard what that dirty dog said to you, honey.”

  “Oh—” Katrina began, but Delcie smiled and patted her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry. No one else did, I don’t think. It’s just that I was right behind you. He deserved that slap, and I’m glad you gave it to him.”

  Katrina sighed heavily. “I’ve made myself an enemy tonight, haven’t I? From suitor to foe all in one evening.”

  “Trina—more than that,” Delcie said, choosing her words carefully. “I fear, now, Jack has it in for Dr. Logan.” She nodded toward the row of chairs and some of the pews that had been carried outside the church to provide cooler seating in the shade. “Let’s sit down a minute.” The familiar gleam of mischief had returned to Delcie’s blue eyes. “I want to hear what happened after Dr. Logan found you.”

  ****

  It might help, Katrina thought, to re-tell the incident to her best friend. But she hadn’t counted on Shay watching her from across the churchyard as she did so, smiling as if he were enjoying whatever tale his companions told. A quick glance her way from time to time let Katrina know that the smile was for her, and for the conversation she was having with Delcie. The topic was a certainty, and Katrina knew Shay was well aware of it.

  “Maybe we should talk later,” she said, after catching his gaze on her for the third time.

  Delcie grinned at her attempt to stall, shaking her golden curls. “Oh, no, Trina. I have to know…” She leaned closer. “Did he try to kiss you?”

  Katrina thought of that instant that had passed between them, when he’d reached to trace her jawline with his hand. A delicious shiver ran through her at the memory of his fingers on her skin, skimming the planes of her face lightly at first, then the way she’d held his hand nearer, pressing her face closer into his palm. She could have tasted his skin. She’d looked into his dark eyes and felt warm all over…just like now, she thought, as she glanced up and met his gaze from across the yard yet again.

  The shadows were falling fast, but there was enough light left in the evening to see what was written in Shay’s expression. Regret for what had happened when they’d returned, but smoldering desire for more of the magic that had taken place between them in that secluded forest clearing. She imagined her own features read the same way, to him, but she was helpless to stop the obvious play of emotion and memory—unless she looked away. And she found that increasingly difficult the longer the evening progressed.

  “N-No,” she murmured softly. “No. He wouldn’t do that. He’s too much of a gentleman, Delcie.” She thought of how he’d grabbed her father’s hand and held it, protecting her in front of the entire town.

  “And you love him for that.”

  “Yes—I mean—” She tore her gaze away from Shay’s tall form to look at her friend, glad of the coming darkness. “No.” She laughed softly. “No, how could I? I only just met him. But doesn’t he seem…lonely?”

  “Not lonely, Trina. But ‘alone,’ yes. And believe me, as handsome as he is, he won’t be alone—or lonely—for very long.”

  At that very moment, Anna Lewis and Roberta Sullins approached him along with old Mrs. Darlington, who was obviously making the introductions, as polite society dictated.

  Katrina squirmed in her chair, forcing her eyes away from the scene as pain lanced her heart. He would never be anything to her. Her father had ruined that, and she had finished off any chance she’d had with Jack Thompson, shortly thereafter.

  “Let’s go be sociable,” Delcie suggested, but Katrina shook her head.

  “No. You go on, Delcie. I don’t want to ruin the evening for you.”

  Impulsively, Delcie hugged her. “Things will come around, Trina. Oh, how I wish your father—” But she said no more, and Katrina was sure her friend could see how she also wished her father had not been so free with the liquor before the evening had barely begun.

  “Well,” Delcie said, releasing Katrina and standing, “I’m going to go eat with Tom. He’s waiting for me—”

  “Yes, yes, Delcie,” Katrina said distractedly. She suddenly wanted to be alone with her thoughts. There was so much to sort out. “You go on and eat. Don’t fret about me.”

  Katrina needed this time to herself. Who would have believed all that had transpired in two hours’ time? She relieved the humiliating moment when she’d blurted her bold question to Shay. Dr. Logan.

  Are you really a doctor? Her face burned again with the memory of how her innocent inquiry had been so misunderstood by not only Delcie and Tom, but by Shay himself. How she wished she had never opened her mouth! And then, he’d come after her. The moment he’d stepped into the clearing, she’d realized she was in love with him. How could that be? Love at first sight—all her life, she’d believed that to be an impossibility. She’d been the practical one in her family, and so many times, had doubted that love would ever find her.

  So many of her friends had married and some had children already. But with an alcoholic father and two younger siblings, one of which was sickly, her chances of finding a suitable match were quickly passing, along with her years. She was nineteen. Nearly a spinster. Jack Thompson had been her last hope, but she wasn’t sorry about what had happened earlier. What else could she have done? How could he have talked to her that way? He had deserved the slap she’d given him, and she was prepared to face the consequences. She would not be seeing him again, and Papa would be as livid over that development as he’d been over what he supposed had occurred between her and Shay Logan earlier.

  She put her hand to her cheek where Shay’s fingers had burned a trail of fire. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the haunted look in his dark brown eyes, hear the deep resonance of his voice…

  “Are you going to sit here alone all night?”

  “Oh!” Her eyes flew open and she jumped at the familiar sound of Shay’s voice.

  “Mind if I sit down here with you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer before seating himself beside her. “I brought you some food.” He held out the plate. “Fried chicken, potato salad, and some kind of pie here—cherry, I think.”

  “I—”

  “Here, take this. I’ll go get you a glass of tea. The way you’re stammering around, sounds like you need it.”

  She had no choice but to take the plate of food, and as she did, he turned away toward the picnic table where the drinks were located.

  The aroma of Mrs. Watson’s fried chicken wafted up to her, and she tore a piece of the meat off and bit into the crunchy goodness of it. How long had it been since she’d eaten? Breakfast? She took another bite, then picked up the fork that lay on the edge of the plate.

  Cherry pie. Her favorite. How had he known? He had to have guessed at it. And potato salad. How thoughtful he was! She glanced up to see that he was on his way back from the drink table with two glasses of
tea. Her heart pounded. They were both taking a chance to be seen together tonight so openly after the scene her father had caused.

  “Here you go, Miss Whitworth.” He extended one of the glasses to her and she took it. He sat beside her once more, nodding at the plate. “Hungry, weren’t you?”

  “I guess I was. Thank you for thinking of me. I’ve had a busy day. I suppose I forgot to eat lunch.” She paused before taking another bite. “What about you, Shay?”

  He shrugged. “I’m debating whether to spend my time going through the serving line again or to sit right here with you—hungry.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle. “Why don’t you sit here and eat this other piece of chicken? That will hold you until the line gets shorter and you won’t have to stand so long and wait. Or be hungry.”

  He grinned, reaching for the chicken thigh on her plate. “That’s a good plan.” He took a bite and turned somber. “I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. My father—he gets like that when he drinks too much.”

  Shay shook his dark head. “No, I’m not apologizing for any of what happened then. I wouldn’t change a thing I did. I’ll never allow him to strike you again, Katrina.” His face clouded with anger at the memory. “I just meant that I should have had Delcie accompany me when she offered. I put you in a compromising position without realizing it, and I’m sorry for that.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “But it was.” His serious gaze held hers. “It was,” he said more quietly.

  Katrina took a sip of the tea nervously, then sat the glass on the ground beside her chair. His look was so intense, she felt he was stripping her bare, learning every secret she’d ever had. Breaking eye contact seemed like the only way to hide. She couldn’t let him see too deeply into her soul. The feelings she’d developed for Shay were new, and she didn’t trust them. It would be wrong if he read something more into them.

  “There’s no lasting harm done, Doctor,” she said lightly, trying desperately to restore a sense of the happiness she’d felt earlier as she’d looked forward to the festivities this evening.