Loving Katherine

by Carolyn Davidson

  “Roan?” It was a demand for confirmation. “It’s not really too tight, is it?”

  He shook his head. “Naw. It just fits nice and snug, the way I wanted it to. Now the only problem will be to keep every other man on board from lookin’ at what belongs to me.”

  Her blush was expected and he relished it with good humor, even as she denied his worry.

  “There’s not a man on this boat who’ll be taking a second look at me. Not when they get a good look at the women I saw when I came on board.” She pursed her mouth as she recalled three young females, all gussied up with fancy dresses and ribbons tied in their hair.

  “They’re performers, honey. They give shows at night and keep the passengers entertained.” He brushed at a speck of dust on her shoulder and allowed his hand to rest at the nape of her neck as he spoke. “Not one of ‘em holds a candle to you, sweetheart. You’re a lady from stem to stern, and when all’s said and done, that’s what a man’s lookin’ for.”

  Her glance was skeptical, delivered with a lifted eyebrow as she murmured a delicately derisive snort. “Don’t tell me you’ve never given one of those performers a second look, Devereaux.”

  He shrugged, dropping his hand, tucking his shirt into place and fastening his pants once more. “Not today. Not the way you mean, anyway,” he told her bluntly. “You’re enough woman for me, Kate. I don’t need to look any farther if I want to see a good-lookin’ female.”

  Her glance was measuring as she stepped closer, her fingers reaching to busy themselves with the top buttons of his shirt. In the confines of the room, they were bound to stumble over each other during the next days, she’d already decided. Might as well take advantage of the close quarters and let him know in no uncertain terms how much she appreciated his words of flattery. Her hands spread against his broad chest as he fit his fingers around her waist. And then he waited, as if he knew what was to come.

  She rose up on her toes to reach his face, her mouth seeking the warmth of his, parting in anticipation of the meeting of their lips. Roan let her have her way, holding back the need to crush her against his body. It was the first time she’d taken the lead since the night on the trail when she’d dropped the barriers of her inhibitions and claimed him as her own. His hands firm against her, he absorbed the slender length of her as she leaned into his strength. He breathed deeply of the sweet scent rising from her body, allowing her the liberties she sought, his lips softening as she brushed them with slow movements, her mouth damp and plush.

  It was almost too much, Roan decided. Katherine could turn him on faster than any woman he’d ever taken a fancy to and that was for sure. His hands tightened around her waist and he grunted a soft command against her lips.

  “You better stop now or forget about dinner.”

  She settled back down on her heels and shielded her eyes with dark lashes. “You really do like me, don’t you, Roan Devereaux?”

  His chuckle was more than humorous. Dark and filled with sensual promise, it pleased her, and she smiled in return. He bent low to whisper in her ear, and the words earned him a look of disbelief.

  “I don’t believe you ought to make promises you can’t possibly keep,” she said with primly enunciated words, careful to move back from his embrace. She turned to the door, her hand on the brass handle.

  “That’s one promise I’ll personally guarantee, Mrs. Devereaux.” She hesitated for only a moment before she opened the door to escape the confines of the stateroom, smiling as she contemplated his words.

  The evening sun cast a golden glow on the muddy water of the Mississippi. “Sure is pretty for a dirty brown river,” Roan observed. “Leastways at sunset.”

  Katherine peered beyond him. “A river’s a river, far as I can tell. I’d just as soon be on a horse, riding along that trail over there.” Her eyes turned longingly to the tree-lined bank. “How long are we going to be on this boat anyway, Roan?”

  “Don’t fret, Katherine. Three, maybe four days should get us to Vicksburg.”

  “That soon?” Katherine’s voice rose in surprise. “I’ll venture to say we’d have been on the trail another week or so at least. Three or four days I can probably handle.”

  “We’re makin’ good speed, even with this river meanderin’ back and forth the way it does. Probably coverin’ seven or eight miles an hour.” He cast a sidelong look at her from his vantage point at the rail. One foot propped on a small crate, he leaned nonchalantly against the wooden railing while Katherine stood in the shade of the deck overhang.

  She peered past him at the white water splashing from the paddle wheel, where it mixed and blended with the glittering golden reflection of the setting sun. Her swallow of determination was almost audible. “When will we dock somewhere?”

  “You feelin’ puny, Kate?” His brow furrowed as he considered the stiffness of her posture, her hesitation to approach the rail.

  She shook her head quickly. “No, not really. I just appreciate the river more from a different angle. Preferably from the bank. I’ve never been real thrilled about getting into water over my head, Devereaux.”

  “You can swim, can’t you?”

  She nodded. “Lawson made sure of that when I was about five or six. Threw me in a pond and laughed when I swallowed half the water in it before I managed to get to the shallow part.” Her smile was tremulous, and she blinked at a suspicion of moisture behind her eyelids. “He said I’d thank him one day—but I never did.”

  “Well, he’s got my thanks,” Roan declared. “I’d sure as hell hate to be stuck with givin’ you swimmin’ lessons at this late date. That’s somethin’ better learned when you’re still a tadpole.”

  His eyes were keen on her face, sweeping her features with an all-encompassing look. His final teasing remark had served to banish the mood of melancholy at least. Now she wore an indignant frown, her glare turned in his direction.

  “I’d be willing to match my skills with yours whenever you say, Mr. Devereaux. I’ll beat you at shooting and riding and maybe even swimming any day of the week. You won’t be needing to give me lessons anytime soon.”

  His voice was smooth as butter from the churn as he acknowledged her claim, establishing one of his own at the same time. “Maybe so, Mrs. Devereaux. But I think I’ve managed to teach you a thing or two lately.” His eyes lit with triumph as he heard the small gasp of air she inhaled.

  “Speechless, ma’am?” He slid his foot from the crate and sauntered to where she stood, stopping just inches from her side. One long finger slipped beneath her chin, and he turned her face to meet his gaze. His voice sank to a whisper, audible only to her, and he leaned just a bit closer as he spoke.

  “You’re givin’ me dirty eyes, sweetheart, and takin’ deep breaths till I can’t hardly keep my hands to myself, what with watchin’ your bosom and admirin’ the blue sparks flyin’ in my direction.”

  “Try your very best, Devereaux. We’ve got us an audience, and I’m not much for putting on a display in public.” She turned from his touch and sauntered down the deck toward the stairway leading to the cabin area.

  His look was guarded as he glanced toward the stern, where several roughly dressed men sat on bales and crates. They averted their eyes at his look of warning, and one turned his back to lean negligently against the wall of the lower deck. Roan’s gaze narrowed, focusing on the slumpshouldered man. But the sound of Katherine’s voice from the top of the stairs broke into his thoughts.

  “Are you coming? Or shall I go on without you?” Behind her the lights of the cabin where the evening’s entertainment was about to begin had been lit. She stood in the waning light, the finely sculptured lines of her face enhanced by the gleam of the lanterns. His heart quickened as he gazed his fill.

  “Roan?” She was sultry, a new quality she’d acquired in the past few days. She’d been appealing before, but the addition of dresses, petticoats and finely textured undergarments had revealed a new facet of this woman to him. As though the feminine
clothing had performed some sort of metamorphosis, she had emerged from the flannel shirts and denim pants with all flags flying. No doubt she could as easily become the campsite companion he’d set out with, take away the dresses and doodads. But for now, he delighted in the rarity of Katherine as a lady.

  A lady who was waiting for him with toes tapping impatiently.

  He grinned and took the stairs two at a time, arriving at her side in seconds. “Hear that fiddle, Kate? That’s a call to action if I ever heard one. I’ll bet the cabin’s all set for the show.”

  Her eyes lit with anticipation and her voice became a murmur, filled with repressed excitement. “I’ve never seen a riverboat show, Roan.”

  “Well, this isn’t really what you’re thinkin’, honey. Not a full-fledged entertainment. Just a couple of girls, all dressed up and kickin’ their heels a little. They have to keep it nice and clean for the ladies on board.”

  She shook her head impatiently. “It might not be much to you, but I’ve never seen real performers before. The only women I’ve heard sing were in saloons and they probably were more talented doing other things.”

  He chuckled and gripped her elbow, ushering her into the main cabin, where tables had been cleared since suppertime and now awaited the arrival of the upper-deck passengers for the evening’s entertainment. “These ladies might earn a little money on the side, too, sweetheart.” He bent lower to whisper against her ear. “Besides, what do you know about the other things those saloon ladies did for a living?”

  She cast him a glance from beneath lowered lids. “I’ve been finding out lately, haven’t I?” Lowering herself into a wooden chair, she watched as Roan settled back next to her, his feet crossed at the ankles, hat tipped back and grin well in place.

  Her face sobered. “Roan…how can they do that? I mean, with one man after another?” Engraved on her memory was the pure intimacy of the acts of marriage she had explored with this man. That another man should touch her or look at her as he had was beyond her comprehension. She shivered and her eyes were vulnerable as she lifted her gaze to meet his.

  The smile curving his lips grew tender and he reached to clasp her fingers within his wide palm. “Kate, there’s no way to compare what you’ve been doin’ with me to what you’re talkin’ about. There’s women who find themselves with nowhere to go and nobody to look after them. Some of ‘em end up with a handful of nothin’, instead of bein’ dealt four aces. I reckon they just do the best they can.”

  Her eyes grew dark, and she squeezed his hand. “I couldn’t.”

  “No, I don’t believe you could, Katherine. You’d scrounge and scrape and make do somehow, if you had to eat dirt. You’ve got gumption, and that’s the truth.” He scooted his chair closer to her and draped one long arm around her. “You belong to me, Kate. You got any idea how proud that makes me feel?”

  Her eyes widened at his words. “Why I declare, Mr. Devereaux. You are becoming more of a Southern gentleman with every mile this boat travels.” she teased. “I don’t mind belonging to a gentleman tonight, I suppose.”

  “I used to be a Southern gentleman,” he told her. “Suppose you can settle for a gamblin’ cowhand for tonight?”

  She frowned her brow. “The cowhand I can figure. Where’d the gambler come from?”

  “After the show, I’m goin’ to escort you to the cabin and spend an hour or so dealin’ a hand of cards.”

  She sat up straight in the chair. “I can’t watch? You’re going to tuck me in bed and sit around and play cards?”

  “Don’t get all huffy, Katherine,” he said quietly. “It’s not called playin’ cards when there’s money involved. Then it gets to be serious gamblin’, and I don’t need you lookin’ over my shoulder. Matter of fact, I’d feel better if I knew you were locked up in our cabin, safe and sound.”

  Only a burst of music from the two men on the stage stopped her from the quick words she yearned to speak, and she swallowed them as music filled the cabin. The fiddle twanged in time with the piano, and the agile fingers of the pair began to play a tune in fine style. Katherine glared at Roan’s smiling face, his attention caught by the music and the three garishly dressed women who had appeared on the raised stage at the end of the cabin.

  Their gowns were scarlet and royal blue, with sequins and ruffles in abundance, and their hair was piled in curling profusion, falling in ringlets down their backs. They posed and pirouetted in time to the rollicking tune, finally breaking into song. The lyrics were simple, repeated often and sung with vigor, and soon the entire crowd of gathering passengers joined in.

  Without a moment’s pause, the music swung into another song, and the women onstage went through a series of dance steps, lifting their skirts to expose trim ankles and rounded calves as they circled the small area. The audience clapped with enthusiasm at the final flourish of skirts, then listened with rapt attention as the three took turns singing ballads to their eager public.

  For an hour they performed—singing, dancing, telling small singsong jokes that set their audience to laughing with a delight Katherine did not share.

  “They’re just on the edge of being—” She was lost for a word to describe the nature of the humor she was being exposed to.

  “Naughty?” Roan supplied.

  She shrugged. “It just isn’t as shiny as I thought it would be,” she admitted in an undertone. “They look sort of…used up, don’t they?”

  Roan smiled at her. “You’re growin’ up, Kate. All the women in the world aren’t at one end of the scale or the other. There’re those in the middle. Not upstairs doxies, but certainly not ladies like yourself. Just a few steps up or down, whatever the case may be, makin’ do with what talent they got.”

  “It’s full dark,” Katherine said suddenly, looking through the doorway to where the night sky was barely visible over the upper railing of the boat. The floor beneath her feet vibrated with the muffled engine’s rhythm. She sensed a moment’s sadness as she thought of the daily routine of the women who had performed, and the innocent joy she’d felt disappeared. “I think I’m ready to go to bed.”

  “Let’s go.” Roan rose without hesitation and grasped her arm, leading her to the nearest doorway and out onto the narrow deck. “It’s about time for the serious gamblin’ to start anyway. Let’s get you safe and sound for the night.”

  “You’re determined to do this, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “I’ve spent a lot of hours on riverboats, Kate. Most of them makin’ money.”

  Her mouth opened and she halted abruptly. “You’re a gambler?”

  He moved her ahead, nudging her with his arm around her waist, catching her as she stumbled. “Only when I know there’s money to be made.”

  “Well, I never—” She walked across the threshold of the cabin and waited while he lit the lamp on the wall. Her skirt billowing around her, she flounced onto the edge of the bunk and watched him.

  “We’re gonna run low on funds, Kate, and I don’t want to hear about your money,” he told her, stanching the words she was about to spout in his direction. “Now just behave yourself for a while and wait in here for me.”

  “What if you don’t win?” Her eyes snapped her indignation as she taunted him.

  His smile was quick and laden with promise as he tipped his hat and backed out the door. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I never lose.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Can’t tell if that’s your heart thumpin’ or the paddle wheel hittin’ the water.” His muffled words buried against her breast, Roan voiced his thoughts. Shifting his head just a bit to the left, he grunted contentedly, his mouth opening, allowing his lips to close over a particularly succulent piece of flesh.

  “I don’t think I’m even speaking to you, Devereaux.”

  “Hmm…hush, Kate. I’m tryin’ to figure this out.”

  “I know exactly what you’re trying to do and you might as well know right now—” Her squeal of surprise and his chuckle of amusemen
t were simultaneous. Sliding up her body to claim her mouth for his own, Roan halted her scolding midway. His arms tucked her snugly against him, and his hands roamed at will down the length of her slender back, settling on the curve of her backside.

  “This isn’t going to get you anywhere, you know,” she grumbled against his mouth.

  “Already got me right where I wanted to be.” His announcement was smug, his words teasing as he nibbled at her lower lip.

  “I have an aversion to gambling.”

  He sat up, his hair tousled, his brow drawn into a frown of disbelief. “Well, I’ll be double damned! Is that what this’s all about? You’re mad because I won a few hands of poker last night?” Rising from the bunk, he stalked to the small square window on the outer wall of the stateroom. Magnificently naked, his body rippled with the play of muscles, his back sloping from the solid width of his shoulders to the narrow measure of his hips. The length of his thighs, tightly drawn and thick with the strength of a horseman, drew her eyes, and she focused on the scarred expanse above his right knee.

  “I’ve never seen your wound before,” she whispered. A tenderness she could not conceal washed the words with a warmth that cleansed his anger.

  He turned quickly, attempting to hide the evidence of his injuries and surgery from her sight, and she cried out her objection as he gathered up his pants from the floor.

  “No! Don’t hide from me, Roan.” She moved quickly, crossing the narrow space between them, her arms reaching to hold him. Then he was in her grasp, and her shuddering breath was hot against his chest. She slid like a slender wraith the length of him, her arms and hands swift against his flesh, until she knelt before him, bending to press her mouth against the purpled scars wreathing his thigh. The flesh was mended now, but the pain of the mending was apparent to her and she groaned within herself at the suffering he had experienced.