Thimbles and Thistles: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 2)
Page 8
“Make it however you think is best, Maggie. If you want to include a shirt and tie, that’s fine, too. Do you need to take any measurements?” Ian half-hoped she’d say yes, just to have her near to him for a few moments.
Disappointment settled over him when she shook her head. “I think I can get what I need from your old suit, but if I run into any challenges, I know where to find you.”
Ian grinned and started toward the door. “That you do, lass. Would you like me to pay you today?”
Maggie smiled at him in gratitude. Some of her clients refused to pay until they held the finished garment in their hand, so she appreciated Ian’s offer. “That isn’t necessary, Ian. You may pay when it’s finished, but only if you insist. Your unexpected dunking in the river was partially my fault.”
“Only if you admit your beauty distracts me to the point I can’t keep my own feet beneath me. It’s hard to keep my head straight on my shoulders when I’m so completely entranced by the sight of you.” Ian stood at the door, looking at her with a warm light glowing in his eyes.
She assumed he was teasing, but his comments made her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Is your father as full of idle flattery and hot air as you?”
Ian chuckled. “Where do you think I got my good looks and appeal?”
“Who said you possess either?”
Maggie’s saucy grin made his heart pound wildly in his chest. He ached to kiss her, to hold her, love her.
“Many a lady has assured me it’s true. Are you telling me they lied?”
“Not exactly.” Maggie wondered how he so often managed to back her into a conversational corner. She had a hard time keeping her wits about her when she was alone with him.
“Tell me the truth then, Maggie. Am I a homely mutt with all the charisma of a chunk of wood?”
Her laughter made him smile. “No, you incorrigible man. Why must you constantly need reassurance that you are, in fact, capable of charming the bees out of their honey and handsome enough to turn the head of most any girl? If it wasn’t for that tousled mess you call hair and that scruff you allow to grow on your face like mold on a wedge of overripe cheese, who knows what might happen.”
Ian appeared affronted as he ran a hand over one jaw then the other. “Och, lass, you’re breaking my heart. How dare you compare this fine growth on my face to moldy cheese? That is an insult of the worst kind.” Mischief danced in his eyes as he stepped closer to her. “I dare you to touch it and tell me that it isn’t as soft as one of your finest pieces of fabric.”
Maggie had never been able to pass up a dare, even when she knew better. Boldly reaching up, she ran her hand along Ian’s jaw, surprised how soft his beard felt beneath her fingers. The contact of her hand to his face caused flames to leap up her arm and sear her chest, but she lifted her other hand and bracketed Ian’s cheeks with both of her palms.
The sassy smirk on her face drew one from Ian as she turned her snapping brown eyes to his liquid blue ones. “I suppose it’s more like the bristles on a boar’s behind, but you might someday find a girl who enjoys that sort of thing.”
Ian didn’t know whether to laugh or paddle her for teasing him without mercy. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest while rubbing his cheek along her face. “A boar’s behind? I’ll show you something bristly, lass.”
Maggie squealed and squirmed against him, laughing as he continued to rub her face and neck with his cheek. His masculine scent filled her nose while his laughter and warmth began to fill the gaping chasm in her heart. For a moment, she surrendered to her need to be held, to be wrapped in the strong arms of a gentle man.
She lifted her hands and ran them through Ian’s thick hair, twining her fingers at the back of his head.
His laughter died and his face sobered as he stared at her, trying to interpret her intentions.
Since she herself didn’t know, she returned his gaze with a look of open invitation. Her lips parted and her eyes began to close as Ian lowered his head toward hers.
“Lass, my lovely lass…” he whispered in a husky voice. “I…”
The shop door banged open and drew a startled squeak out of her while Ian dropped his hands, taking a quick step back.
They both stared at Ben, one of Thane’s hired hands, as he stood in the doorway grinning at them.
“I reckon I timed that about like a tea party in a tornado, but the boss asked me to stop by and invite you to dinner at the ranch tomorrow. Can you make it?” Ben looked from Maggie to Ian, still grinning.
“To whom are you addressing the question, Ben?” Ian asked. The cowpoke couldn’t have picked a worse time to open the door. He’d been so close to kissing Maggie, his lips still tingled.
“Both of you. Miz Jemma reminded me twice to invite you both. I appreciate you saving me a trip out to the lumberyard by being here, Ian.” Ben shifted his weight from one hip to the other as he waited for their response.
Ian looked to Maggie and she shrugged her shoulders then nodded her head. He turned back to Ben. “Would you please tell Thane and Jemma we accept and look forward to seeing them tomorrow?”
“Sure thing.” Ben tipped his hat and backed out the door. “Sorry about the interruption. Please go back to um… well, you know, whatever it was you were doing.”
The jovial young man smiled then left. He strode down the boardwalk, whistling a lively tune.
Maggie placed her hands on her fevered cheeks, mortified that Ben caught her in Ian’s embrace. Worse, if he hadn’t arrived in such a timely fashion, she might have kissed Ian.
While she struggled to gather her composure, Ian placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“I’d apologize, Maggie, but I’m not a bit sorry.” Desire still burned brightly in Ian’s eyes as he gazed down at her. “The only regret I have is that I didn’t get the job done before Ben arrived.”
Shocked by his words, Maggie watched him walk over to the still-open door. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow about five to go out to the Jordan’s. Do you prefer to ride a horse or take my wagon?”
“Horse,” Maggie croaked, finding it hard to speak around the lump of warring emotions lodged in her throat.
“Tomorrow, I’ll be here with a horse at five sharp. Have a good evening, lass, and thank you for agreeing to make me a new suit.” Ian closed the door behind him and sauntered down the street in the direction of the lumberyard.
From her spot at the window, Maggie watched him go until he disappeared from sight.
She couldn’t believe she’d let down her defenses and almost kissed Ian. It was wrong to encourage him, even in the slightest. She had absolutely no intention of getting involved with another man no matter how handsome and wonderful he might be. Especially not one who stirred her emotions, engaged her senses, and made her want things she knew she couldn’t have.
Irritated by the tears that leaked from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, she returned to her workroom and lost herself in the task of making Ian’s suit.
Chapter Eight
Throughout the day, Maggie kept one eye on the clock and one on her work. She’d finished Mrs. Fortney’s gown, carefully pressed it and personally delivered it to her home.
With that finished, she focused on sewing the jacket of Ian’s suit. She’d just pinned in the sleeves when she decided she needed to change her clothes before Ian arrived to accompany her out to Thane and Jemma’s for dinner.
Suspicious of the motive behind the invitation, she hoped Jemma wasn’t trying to play matchmaker. The couple often invited her to join them for a meal on Sunday. Sometimes she rode out for a visit on Mondays when her shop was closed, but they’d never asked her to come for dinner on a weeknight.
Tully was out of town on business or she would have asked him if he had any idea what Thane and Jemma plotted.
As she pondered the many possibilities, she turned the open sign to closed and locked the front door. Maggie hurried upstairs to
her apartment and changed from her fashionable spring gown into a navy riding skirt, tall boots, and a blue-sprigged calico blouse with a navy vest. Quickly unpinning her hair, she wove it into a braid and tied the end with a piece of ribbon. She filled a basket with cookies she’d made that morning and covered it with a pristine white napkin then grabbed a pair of smooth leather gloves.
A tap sounded at the back door as she rushed down the stairs. When she whipped it open, Ian leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for her.
“Evening, lass. Are you ready to go?” Ian smiled as she stepped outside and locked the door, dropping the key into her pocket.
“Yes, I am.” Maggie gave him a curt nod and marched around the side of the building to the front where two horses stood tied to the hitching post.
“I know you have your own horse, but I didn’t think you’d mind riding one of mine.” Ian put a hand on the neck of a beautiful quarter horse. “This is Captain. I call him Cap for short. He’ll take good care of you.”
Maggie ran a gentle hand over the horse’s back, along his legs and over his face. He blew a soft puff of air on her hand and nuzzled her with his head. “Aren’t you a love?”
The horse appeared to nod his head and brushed against her again.
Maggie gave the horse a few minutes of loving attention then hooked the basket of cookies over the saddle horn.
Before Ian could offer his help, she’d mounted and leaned over to fiddle with her stirrups. He pushed her hand aside and adjusted the length. When he placed his hand on her calf to guide it into the stirrup, she jerked her foot and sucked in a gulp of air.
His hand trembled from the innocent touch. Besotted with the woman, he wanted to push up the wide leg of her split skirt and run his hand over her skin.
Ian drew in a shaky breath, stepped back, and hurried around the horse to adjust the other stirrup. “How’s that? Does it feel comfortable?” He tugged on the stirrup then guided her foot into it.
“It’s fine. Thank you.” Maggie wondered if bones could melt. The feel of Ian’s hand on her leg made her limbs feel as weak and limp as if hers had dissolved. It was foolish to harbor any feelings for the man, other than friendship.
She knew how to be friends with men. After all, Tully and Thane had been two of the best friends anyone could have since Daniel’s death. Some people might find their friendship impractical, and a few question the propriety, but the two men were closer to her than if they’d been born her brothers.
Lack of experience or an inability to befriend a man weren’t to blame for the turmoil she felt around Ian. It was her undeniable attraction to the good-looking man.
However, if she kept entertaining silly ideas like surrendering her heart and giving love another try, it would only lead to more heart-wrenching pain.
Maggie gathered her scattered thoughts and turned the horse to follow Ian as he headed down the street.
They remained silent as they rode through town, but Ian began talking once the quiet of the hills outside of Baker City greeted them.
“Did you read in the paper that London and Paris are now connected by telephone?” Ian asked as the horses plodded along the road, stirring puffs of dust with each step.
“I did read that article. It’s an amazing thing to contemplate, isn’t it? Do you suppose one day that we’ll be able to place a telephone call to anyone in the world? What if you could call your family in Scotland and discuss what they’re having for dinner or ask if they’ll teach you how to dance properly without falling into the river?”
Ian chuckled and shook his head. “Those are fanciful notions, indeed, lass. It would be wonderful, though. There are days I’d dearly love to be able to call and listen to my dad’s sage advice, although it always perturbed me when he offered it when I was a cheeky lad.”
It was Maggie’s turn to laugh. “Cheeky? Not the humble and solemn Ian MacGregor. I just can’t quite picture it.”
Aware of her teasing, Ian nodded his head. “It may be hard to believe, but I was something of a handful as a youngster.”
“And you’re under the impression you’ve grown out of it?” Maggie raised an eyebrow and gave him a slow perusal. “Oh, Mr. MacGregor, you are sadly mistaken if that is your assessment.”
Ian slapped a hand to his chest and leaned back in the saddle. “Och, lass! What have I done to get on your bad side? Between the barbs and insults, I think my tough old hide has been thoroughly pierced.”
Maggie laughed so freely, a dimple popped out in her right cheek and her nose crinkled up on the end. Delighted by the sound of her laughter, as well as the sight of such happiness on her face, Ian couldn’t help but stare.
Mindful of keeping his thoughts in line, he challenged Maggie to race him to the ranch, since they were already halfway there.
“Prepare to eat my dust, Mr. MacGregor,” Maggie said as she settled herself deeper into the seat of the saddle. “Shall we go on the count of three?”
At Ian’s nod, she started counting, but urged her mount forward on the count of two.
“Cheater’s never win!” Ian called after her, watching her expertly handle Cap as they raced down the road. Truthfully, he didn’t care if he won or lost, he just liked watching Maggie move with the horse and hearing the sound of her laughter.
When she glanced back over her shoulder at him with an impish grin, he responded with a smile.
“Come on, slow poke!” she called. “Catch me if you can!”
“Let’s go, Rob.” Ian encouraged his horse to catch up to Maggie. He could have easily overtaken her and won the race, but he much preferred staying close beside her, letting her think she had to work to win.
They rode down the hill to the ranch yard and reined in the horses near the barn. Thane waved as he stepped out of the shadows and walked over to them. Maggie jumped off the horse and patted his neck before turning to Ian. “Although you let me win, it was fun to race.”
She gave Thane an exuberant hug then ran to the cabin where Lily stood at the door, excitedly awaiting her arrival.
Thane took Cap’s reins while Ian dismounted and walked Rob around to cool him off. They turned the horses into a small corral near the barn then stood at the pump and washed their hands and faces.
“It’s been a warm spring, hasn’t it?” Thane asked as Ian scrubbed the dirt from his hands and dried them on a towel left on a hook by the pump.
“Unseasonably so, but I won’t complain. Late spring and early autumn are my favorite seasons when it’s comfortable outside without being too hot or cold and the skies overhead are blue instead of dreary.” Ian looked over at the big farmhouse that was nearly finished. It sported a new coat of pale yellow paint that stood out in contrast to the sage and brown landscape around it.
“I see you got the house painted since the last time I was here.”
Thane glanced at the house and grinned while he dried his hands. “Yep. I hired a few extra hands to get the house done as soon as humanly possible. My wife is impatient to move in.”
“I can see why, although I heard Maggie say Jemma is most anxious to have indoor plumbing again.” Ian was glad his mother insisted he have two bathrooms installed in his new home. He appreciated the luxury most in the winter, although the rest of the year he didn’t think too much about it.
Thane laughed and slapped his back. “That she is. After all the months she’s lived here on the ranch, she still refers to the outhouse as an ‘unacceptable abomination.’ She’s said it so often, even Lily refers to it as a “bobnation.”
Ian chuckled as they walked to the cabin and inside the small but welcoming home. Maggie helped Jemma set heaping bowls and platters of food on the table. Lily followed her every step, telling one of her made-up stories about a beautiful princess who lived in a badger hole in the hills.
Surprised by the child’s imagination, Ian turned to Thane who shrugged his shoulders. “I took her for a ride to check on one of the herds the other day and she saw a badger go into his hole. Sh
e’s been talking about it ever since. I just hope she doesn’t take it into her active little mind to investigate a badger hole. I’ve warned her repeatedly to stay away, but with Lily, anything is possible.”
Ian didn’t know a lot about children, but he did know Lily seemed to have received an extra portion of fun and rambunctiousness. Jack, on the other hand, tended to be solemn and responsible.
“Ian!” Lily noticed him standing by the door. She ran over so he could pick her up and toss her into the air. “Do it again, please! Do it again!” He obliged, tossing her into the air again before setting her down. The active little girl ran in circles around the table before Thane scooped her up and set her in a chair.
“Let’s get you ready for dinner, honey,” Thane said, scooting her chair closer to the table. He glanced up as Jack hurried in the door with a smile on his face.
“Hi, Mr. MacGregor. Did you see our house?” Jack asked as he approached their guest.
“Not yet, but I was hoping after dinner you could explain what’s been done since I was here last week.”
Jack beamed with pride and pleasure. “Yes, sir. I can do that!”
Maggie ruffled the boy’s hair as he walked over to her and gave her a hug. “How have you been, Jack?”
“Great, Aunt Maggie. Did you know our house is almost finished?” Jack looked at her with earnest eyes the same copper shade as his sister’s.
“I did know that. Maybe after we eat, you can give me a tour.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Jack took her hand and pulled her over to the table then held out a chair for her to take a seat.
Politely, Maggie nodded to him. “Thank you, kind sir.” She took a seat and winked at Jemma as Thane held a chair for her. She bit back a smile when Ian sat beside Lily across the table, gazing with longing at the chair Jack occupied at her side.
Dinner conversation was lively as they discussed upcoming events in town, as well as Thane’s plans to increase his herd of cattle, and sell one of his mines.
Jack ate so quickly, Maggie wasn’t sure he took time to chew his food. The boy was clearly impatient to finish with the meal so he could show off the new house.