“It is by the example of these courageous women who refused to give up their places that I speak today. We have been given the mission to redeem those who know no other life than the ways of sin. Women are, by Divine arrangement, the first teachers of every child that is born. It is our duty to continue the role of teacher each blessed day that we arise.”
Annie paused and judged the silent response. A few nods of encouragement came her way, but Abigail Duffner, along with her husband, Abner, and Velma Grant, still regarded her with stem faces. Aunt Hortense, to Annie’s mortification, was gently snoring on the settee in the front parlor. Fawn, her dark eyes bright with interest, stood at the doorway. Her smile bolstered Annie’s decision to continue.
“I implore those of you who resist the call to go forth and lead by example to remember that this is work no one but women can do so appropriately. Examine your hearts and minds to be of a clear purpose. Remember that the Lord will arrange all, and all we have to do is our best and trust the Lord for the rest. I read from Luke: ‘Lord dost Thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? Bid her, therefore, that she help me.’ ”
Annie turned to Emmaline to begin the closing song, hurt when she realized that her friend had not been moved by her sermon. She closed her eyes, the words coming softly from her lips, silently praying that she would have the strength of her convictions.
The blending voices, Lucinda Lockwood’s soprano, clearly the highest, couldn’t drown out the sudden thundering beat that penetrated the room. For a moment Annie glanced heavenward, thinking she had been given some sign, as a hushed, bewildered silence fell on the group.
The all-too-human swearing sent her running out to the lobby. The shouting was louder here. So was the hammering.
“Annie Charlotte! Whatever is that racket?”
And it was the all-too-human sound of Kellian’s voice that sent Annie marching to the front door.
“Believe me, Aunt, it is not the Lord coming to call. More like the devil,” she muttered to herself, opening the door.
She had to go halfway around the porch to find him. The sight of him was as appealing as the warm sunlight after the storm. It struck Annie that he hadn’t lied to her about staying up all night repeatedly. The man didn’t look any the worse for not having returned until now. He had not seen her—or was ignoring her. It was no more than she expected; she almost welcomed it for the moment.
Kell balanced easily on the top rail of the porch, one arm hooked around the post. His white shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms lightly burnished with blond hair. The string tie was gone, and the top buttons of his shirt lay open, a veed frame for the strong column of his throat. He leaned his graceful body at a dangerous angle to yell orders up to the men on the roof who hauled boards by ropes.
Sunlight caressed him much as her gaze did and sent an infusion of warmth to flood her. And, that quickly, her body felt tight as a drum’s skin. The words of her sermon took flight like the sparrows from the cottonwood that shaded the back porch.
“What are you doing?” she finally demanded, wondering why the simple act of breathing became such a difficult task when she was near him.
“Bring it up slow or you’ll hit the window,” Kell shouted. With a half turn, he pivoted around the post to face her. “Good morning to you, too, Muldoon.”
His move drew her gaze to the long length of his legs. Grace and power, she thought, trying to dismiss his smile, as inviting as a goosefeather comforter on a cold night.
“I asked what you are doing to my home, Mr. York.”
“It should be obvious. I’m repairing your roof.”
“Repairing my roof? Why? I never asked you to.” Being forced to look up at him did not settle Annie’s temper. The heat of battle raced over her. “I intended to take care of the repairs this week.”
“After I paid my rent?” Kell almost chuckled at the bright flare in her eyes. Temper sent faint color, like the shadow of a rose in a mirror, to hide her freckles. She was as alluring as a peach this morning. A very ripe one. Her hair framed her face in a softer, upswept style, but his gaze drifted lower, slowly savoring her long, slender neck circled by cream lace, draping her shoulders as delicately as a cobweb.
“You look lovely this morning.”
His compliment seemed to take them both by surprise, and Annie was slower to recover.
“You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. York.’ ”
“I do thank you for the compliment. If only I weren’t worried what advantage you’d try to make of it.”
“Smile for me, darlin’. When I want to take advantage of you, you’ll know.”
The explicit promise in his voice had Annie wipe suddenly damp palms down the sides of her blue serge skirt. She had no choice but to ignore his comment.
“Annie, stop looking for a polecat in the woodwork. I like sleeping in a dry bed. Be gracious. I’ve saved you bother about it. And if payment is worrying you, don’t let the matter cause you to lose sleep.”
As rich and buttery as the golden crust of a cobbler, the words spilled forth. Annie lowered her lashes, hiding his face from her sight the only way she could.
“We can work something out about the payment.”
His engaging grin caused a hitch in her breathing. The brightness of his eyes as she lifted her gaze to his brought unwanted images of the unholy ways Kell would exact payment.
“Such a difficult decision, darlin’?”
“Stop calling me that. What you’re doing isn’t proper,” she whispered, stepping close and feeling as if every pair of eyes in town were targeting her back.
“Proper ain’t fun.”
“Rules governing behavior bring order to one’s life.”
“Rules are boring,” he countered.
Kell sent his gaze skimmering over the enticing length of her body and smiled to see the tip of one black shoe beating out toe-tapping impatience.
Think, Annie ordered herself, unable to tear her gaze away from his sun-streaked hair. It was too long, curling over the back of the collar. Long and soft and silky. Her fingers curled at her sides in memory of how it felt to hold his hair, drawing his head closer, feeling the silky length slide through her fingers when his lips…
Stop this! The warning came too late. She wet her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, soothing the heat that memory caused.
“Annie, answer me this. If Lockwood came with a crew of men to repair your roof, would you tell him it wasn’t proper?”
“No. Neighbors help each other in times of trouble.”
“Must I remind you that I’m a neighbor, too? Just as soon as I get the Silken Aces rebuilt.”
He offered an acceptable out and Annie knew it. “This is a neighborly kindness to your credit, Mr. York. But I will pay you. Now, send your men home, for this is the Lord’s day. One that is set aside for prayer and reflection as well as the enjoyment of one’s family and friends.”
“I’ve had all night to reflect, and we’re not family. I can’t think of you as a friend, darlin’, much as you’d wish. But enjoyment, Annie, now there’s a thought to my liking.”
Annie, sure that wicked, whispering voice of his had reached no one else, was tempted. “Rules are boring,” he had said. Watching him above her, recklessness a halo he could no more shed than an angel, she was lured into agreement. She did all she could to hide the delicious shiver of temptation that threatened her moral fiber.
She looked out over the neat rows of her vegetable garden. “You ask too much of me.” Regret laced her voice, but she had to be her own best example. “I do appreciate your help with the roof repair, no matter what your reason.”
Li pulled up around the side of the house with a wagon full of cut boards and two ranch hands that Annie knew. She murmured a greeting and used the distraction to leave.
Why did her convictions falter in Kell’s presence?
She needed to tak
e her own advice and spend the day in prayer and reflection. But not here. Not when Kell would be close by all day.
And Li, knowing that Kell would go after her, refused to help unload the wagon, forcing Kell to do it. For now, this was the only protection he could offer Annie from her moral dilemma.
The only question was, For how long could she hold out against Kell?
Chapter 13
In the end Annie found it surprisingly easy to escape. Aunt Hortense corraled the ladies in the parlor for the refreshments Fawn served. Despite her aunt’s most selective hearing problem, Annie knew there was nothing wrong with her eyesight. When Annie hid nothing of the turmoil that this latest confrontation with Kell had caused, Hortense ordered her out of the room and closed the door. No one dared object, given Hortense’s age and her imposing presence.
The chicken had been fried early that morning to avoid the heat, and Annie helped herself to a few pieces. Carrying her napkin-wrapped lunch, a quilt, and her favorite book, she slipped out the back door.
Fawn sat on the back porch, studying the E. BUTTERICK & CO. summer catalogue borrowed from Emmaline, and eagerly pointed to her selections.
“Hmmm, the pattern costs twenty cents, but maybe Emmaline will have this one. I like the shirred waist blouse, too. The calico you picked out will be pretty. We could even trim the cape collar with a bit of lace. Would you like that?”
Dark eyes shining, Fawn nodded rapidly, then pointed to the opposite page, holding up two fingers.
“Why do you want two corset covers? You don’t like to wear a corset.” Fawn’s scowl as she shook her head made Annie pause. “You can’t have these made in the calico, Fawn. It’s not proper to bare that much skin. See here,” Annie said, tracing the small pattern with her finger, “there’s no sleeves, nothing to cover most of your shoulders but these thin bands. This one is better. The combination chemise and drawers will button right up to your neck. And we won’t need to spend thirty cents for a pattern.”
The Indian girl’s bent head brought Annie to crouch beside her. “Don’t be sad. Show me what it is you want. Something very pretty, I warrant.” Meeting Fawn’s gaze, seeing her shy smile, told Annie she was right. She stroked the glossy length of Fawn’s thick braid. “It’s Li, isn’t it? But you’re so young, dearest. I do not want you hurt.”
There were times, Annie thought, when no words were needed. The softened light in Fawn’s eyes, the gentle way she covered her hand, sent the message that Annie was wrong this time. It was uncanny the way she had trusted Li from the first meeting. Examining her own feelings about the man made Annie’s warning die aborning.
“We’ll go see Emmaline tomorrow afternoon once the meal is done. I’m sure we can find the prettiest pattern for you. Something that will make a man take notice of how lovely you are.”
Annie left then, wishing that was all it would take, just a bit of lace or ribbon trimming to make a man notice. But that was not her problem. Kell noticed too much. Hugging her quilt and book against her too-tight chest, Annie strolled down the lane, thinking of how he looked when he called her lovely.
And Li, setting the pole brake on the wagon as he drew it around to the back, watched her go. This was the last of the wood that was to have begun Kell’s rebuilding, but when he had pointed this out, Kell merely shrugged and said he had more coming.
Troubled by his observation of Kell last night, Li did not see Fawn slip inside the kitchen and watch him as he began unloading the wagon.
During the years Li had been with Kell, he knew the man never drank whiskey when he gambled. Drawing a crowd, once word spread that he was reopened for business outside of town, should have pleased Kell. But a little past midnight, Li had watched him prowl restlessly from table to table where the doves dispensed cards, whiskey, and promises all with the same avarice. Kell left his glass at Laine’s table when her attempt to flirt with him failed and began drinking from the bottle.
Li could have warned her not to taunt him when ice wintered in his eyes and edged his voice. But he had kept silent. Some lessons were best learned by those who repeated them. And she did repeat it. Going to Kell once again and leaving him with hate glittering in her eyes.
Kell’s lack of interest in Laine’s generous body gave cause for grave concern. Irish toothache, horn colic—no matter what name Kell called it, Li held to the belief of his own people that a jade stem too long denied the pearled essence of its chosen garden brought disharmony to the body, the mind, and the soul of a man.
He could never claim to truly know Kellian York, for no man could say this without walking in another man’s boots. What he did know about him were unshakable truths. Kell always weighed the risk of any action. Doubly so, his words. He never threatened, promised, or swore unless he could back it up. The man’s sharp mind was to be admired. Li learned from him to figure all probabilities.
But the moment Kell had come into contact with Annie Muldoon he had changed. The strong attraction she held for Kell blocked the man’s logic. Li knew that if he mentioned this, Kell would dismiss it as the worry of a man who spent his life in shadow. That was true enough, but Li also recalled that it was Kell who often reminded him that it was the little things that trip up a smart man.
The afternoon wore on, hot and humid, the breeze as warm as heated syrup soaking a stale biscuit and leaving a man with that much less energy. He tucked away the many times Kell sent a searching gaze over the yard, or glanced in a window looking for Annie. When Kell approached Fawn after a cold lunch of fried chicken and sweet lemonade, Li made himself scarce as he questioned the young woman about Annie. The measure bought him a little more time.
He knew Kell would eventually find him. Just as he had drawn the conclusion that no matter what he did or said, Kell would pursue Annie as thunder followed lightning; just as close, just as heatedly. And, Li thought with a wicked grin, the resulting tempest might lay waste to a woman’s virtue as if it had no more substance than a cobweb or it might bring a strong man to his knees.
Annie Muldoon would appreciate the latter.
So he placed himself to wait, and finally Kell came to him.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Li.”
“It seemed the wise course.” Leaning back against the trunk of the cottonwood, Li set the wide-planked swing that hung from its limb by thick ropes to swinging. Without looking at Kell, he mused, “If I tried to warn you, would you listen to me?”
“I always listen.”
And Kell did. Patient for now, quiet as Li finished. He caught hold of the swing’s rope and stopped it. “My friend sees shadows where there aren’t any. There’s nothing complicated about my feelings for her, Li. And you know the likelihood of risk always makes a game interesting to me. Otherwise, I’d be upstairs right now enjoying Laine’s bed.”
“Then why do you not do just that? The safer course is at times the best chosen.”
“You also know I don’t like playing with a deck that someone else has marked. Takes all the excitement away.”
“Is that all Annie is to you, Kell? An exciting game?” For the moment Li wished to recall his questions. Kell’s eyes narrowed, their gleam chilling enough to lower the heat of the day.
“Does she appeal to some latent need I’ve been unaware of? Take my word for it, Li, Annie doesn’t need your protection. She doesn’t need any man’s.”
“You never answered me.” Li sent a searching gaze over Kell’s features. He marked the impatience he knew too well. “Kell, leave her be. Her world is narrow and she is safe within it. If you cannot answer me, that could be an answer itself.”
In a voice he couldn’t manage to keep under control, Kell said, “All right! You’ll wear away at me like water dripping on rock in that so polite soft voice until I say it. And the answer is that I don’t know what the hell she is. But I intend to find out. Now, where is she?”
Studying the dusty toes of his boots, Li thought hard what to say. Every minute
that he kept Kell away from Annie allowed her to knit the holes in her faltering convictions. To flip the coin, every moment that he delayed allowed Kell’s impatience to build and shred whatever caution still governed him.
“Will you tell her what we have found out?”
“No. And quit stalling, Li.”
Stepping away from the tree and staring down the path that Annie had taken, Li tried again. “She would have to believe you if you showed her what—”
“Li.”
The warning made Li turn to Kell. His survival instincts were as finely honed as a coyote’s, while Kell’s patience was thinner than a whisker.
“I won’t tell her anything, Li, because I don’t think I can trust her.”
“Then you build an empty house without trust.”
“Who the devil said anything about building a damned thing! Just tell me where she is.”
“Visiting the sick?”
“You’re reaching for a line you don’t want to cross. And,” Kell added to soften the reminder, “the only one sick around here is me.”
“Ah, Kell, if that is true the illness is of your own making.” But in the end he knew he would tell him. Li’s debt to Kell was an abiding one that could never be fully repaid. Within his inner vision there was no repayment for Kell, who had, with a lucky turn of the cards, freed him from the role as a flute player to walk again as a man. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from giving one last caution.
“Annie does not fully understand what she does to you.”
“That is the most profound wisdom, and what’s more it makes two of us. But it’s long past time she learned.”
Kell discovered Annie’s refuge at the edge of the shallow, bowl-shaped meadow an hour’s walk from town. The center was waterlogged from the rain, tips of summer-browned grasses rising to reach the sunlight.
Darling Annie Page 15