He sat up to scrub his hands over his face—a strategy that brought a healthier hue to his cheeks. When she slid the tray across his lap, she was quick to notice that the gun had disappeared. She wondered if he'd stashed it under his covers or behind the pillow that now supported his back.
His white-gold eyebrows knitted as he stared down at the plate of gravy-steeped meat.
"Venison, huh?"
"Collie shot a buck."
Annoyance flickered over Billy's face. "Collie went into the woods? Alone?"
"Well... no." Sera couldn't imagine why Billy would object to such a thing. "Sam went with him."
Billy snorted. "Like some grizzled, old boot maker is gonna be a match for..."
Sera arched an eyebrow.
Billy cleared his throat.
"Like I've been saying. Collie needs to focus on target practice. Day in and day out. Hour after hour."
"But he brought down a five-point buck."
"Big deal. Shooting a buck is like shooting a barn on the hoof."
I couldn't hit a moving buck, Sera mused. And neither could Michael.
"Well, if it's any consolation," she said, "Collie fed the orphanage. And provided your dinner."
Billy grunted, blowing steam off his coffee cup. A moment or two passed while he sipped his java. "Betcha think I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, huh?"
"The thought did occur to me."
He chuckled, picking up his knife. "That's what I like about you, Miss Sera. Always looking on the bright side. If you were an egg, you'd be sunny-side up."
"What kind of egg would you be?" she teased.
"Hard boiled."
She fidgeted. He hadn't hesitated in that assessment.
Those unwavering blue eyes drilled into hers. "I shocked you."
"Don't be silly." She pasted on a cheerful smile.
"Yep. You're shocked, all right." He let his dimples peek.
She was relieved by the reemergence of his playful nature.
"After being cooped up with you and Collie for three days, nothing that you boys do can shock me anymore."
"Is that a fact?" He smirked, buttering his bread. "I reckon you must miss your family."
Nodding wistfully, Sera perched on the edge of the wingback chair, which was positioned less than a foot from the bed. Two weeks ago, if anyone had asked that same question, she would have scoffed at the idea that she could miss her grizzly bear of a brother and his awful-tasting medicines after only three days.
But there was something reassuring about Michael's presence that lingered long after he left the building. Something strong, and reliable, and enduring. She thought it must be love. The orphans in this compound had nothing to compare to it.
If anyone has been looking a gift horse in the mouth all these years, she thought a trifle guiltily, that someone has been me.
"Eden—that's my sister-in-law—is expecting a baby in a few months. It's especially hard for me to be away from her right now. I've been trying to pitch in at mealtimes, and to do the laundry..."
"Uh-huh."
Sera cleared her throat. She suspected that she'd lost Billy at the word, baby.
He was using the bread alternately to sop up the gravy and shovel peas into his mouth. She wondered if he'd ever been formally trained in the use of a spoon.
Silence stretched between them. It was broken only by the ticking of the clock and the clatter of the knife against his plate.
She understood that his mouth was busy chewing, but.... It occurred to her that Billy was a lot more talkative when Collie was present. Strange, wasn't it? Two days ago, she'd worried that Collie and Billy might kill each other if she dared to leave them alone to visit the privy.
"Where's the boy now?" Billy demanded, as if guessing her thoughts.
"I'm not sure. I banished him from your room, remember?"
He was amused by the reminder. "It didn't do much good. He's been back here three times."
"I didn't hear that."
"No?" He winked above his coffee cup. "I didn't say it, then."
She smiled at his humor.
"You know, Billy..." She leaned forward half-consciously. "Collie has a reputation for being a bit of a wild child. Trust doesn't come easily to him. I don't know what you did to make it happen, but... he seems to respect you."
Billy hiked a wolfish eyebrow.
"I'm serious! To have a friend—someone he can look up to—will do Collie good."
"He has you."
"Yes, well, that's different. I'm not a boy."
"I reckon that's true," Billy drawled, crumpling up his napkin and tossing it on top of his now spotless plate. "Thank heaven for small favors."
Sera blushed at the compliment. Over the last three days, he'd flattered her with much higher praise, of course, but tonight, for some reason, his favor sounded more genuine.
He was chomping on the mint leaves that Mamie had used to decorate his pudding. Nothing, absolutely nothing, had been wasted on Billy's plate. It made her wonder if he went long periods between meals—like coyotes did, always ranging, always hunting for food.
When those arresting, sapphire eyes met hers, they were bright with a new kind of appetite. Her stomach did a dizzying little flip.
"I... um, think I should take your tray back to the kitchen now," she said awkwardly.
"Naw." He shoved the nuisance onto the nightstand by the bed. "You should sit and jaw with me a spell."
"But the dishes—"
"—Can wait," he finished for her.
She bit her tongue. She couldn't fail to notice how neatly he'd foiled her escape.
"What... did you want to talk about, Billy?"
"You, mostly."
"Me?" She gave a nervous little laugh. "I've told you all about me already."
He cocked his head, studying her. Her unhealed heart fluttered a bit at his admiring gaze.
"I don't think that's true."
"Preacher's daughter," she was quick to remind him. "Two very protective older brothers," she emphasized, "and a horse. A thoroughbred, actually. Her name's Tempest. I rescued her from a beating that would have broken her spirit. Maybe even taken her life."
"That's a brave thing to do."
Her neck warmed. In truth, she hadn't been in any physical danger at the time; she'd merely had a vision.
But she'd come to accept long ago that good or bad, her visions usually came true—unless, of course, the subject of the vision did an abrupt about-face. Like Jesse had, when he'd insisted on riding out of her life.
Ducking her head, she struggled to tamp down a pang of grief; she forced herself to push aside the memory of the sweet, dark-haired son whom she might never know.
"How come you never take off your gloves?" Billy drawled.
His question had come like a bolt out of the blue. She flinched.
"I... um..."
She bit back the tide of rambling half-truths before they could convey her uneasiness further. She hated that her face felt so fiery; she imagined it was as red as the longjohns that Billy had left unbuttoned half way down his lean, belted ribs. She should have had an excuse prepared. An excuse that a man like Billy would believe.
Her laughter sounded strained. "It's... well, embarrassing. And I don't like to talk about it."
"Show me."
"W-What?"
"Take them off."
"Oh, no." She made a vague gesture, her other hand plucking nervously at the skirt of the navy-blue nurse's uniform that Lydia had found for her to wear. "I couldn't do that."
"How come?"
"Um... warts," she lied.
"Warts, huh?"
He wasn't buying it. She could tell by the amusement dancing in those wicked, all-too-direct eyes.
"Has anyone ever told you, you're a lousy liar, Miss Sera?"
She turned even hotter under the collar, if that was possible. Frequently, she was tempted to say.
Instead, she hiked her chin. "That's not a very gentlemanly thing to s
ay."
"Do I look like a gentleman?"
"Looks can be deceiving," she countered lamely.
"I reckon they can."
His dimples deepened into crescents. She had the disconcerting hunch that he knew more about her than she wanted him to know. More about her Episodes, more about her family, more about her sexual appetites...
She squirmed inwardly at the thought.
Just acknowledging that she had sexual appetites was a quantum leap since Saturday. She'd been having the most shocking dreams: Jesse licking her belly. Jesse nibbling her thighs. Jesse sucking her toes. She'd wake up every morning, wet and aching for the release that he'd provided three scintillating, pulse-pounding times last weekend.
But of course, when she rolled over, his warm, copper-skinned body wasn't there.
Oh, Jesse. Was it my ignorance? Did I bore you? I could have done so much better if you had let me use my hands!
"Well." She pasted on a tremulous smile for Billy. "It's getting late. Time for my prayers. Tomorrow Luke and Michael will be trying to cross that current on a raft. To take me home. I'll have to wake bright and early."
"Home?"
"Well, of course." She thought he was flirting with her, so she adopted a coquettish tone. "I have pies to bake. And picnic baskets to pack... Founder's Day and its dance is on Friday, you know."
Something like panic flickered through his eyes. "You can't go home. Not yet."
"Don't be silly. I need a fresh change of clothes."
He threw back the quilts and swung his feet—lightly sprinkled with pale, gold fur—over the bed. When he tried to stand, the anguish on his face was palpable.
"Satisfied?" He sank back onto the mattress. "I can't walk more than a few feet yet. You have to stay here."
"Now Billy. You know as well as I do that Lydia's a far better nurse than I am."
"But my leg will fall off!"
"Your leg's not going to fall off, Billy," she said dryly.
"It will if you make me chase after you!"
"Now why would you do that? You're just talking crazy."
"That's it," he insisted fervently. "That's what I am. Crazy for you."
"Billy," she protested. She was faintly alarmed. Even for a man who flirted as outrageously as he did, this tact was a bit excessive.
He tried another ploy. "Don't you like me? Not even one little bit?"
"Of course I like you," she soothed, hard-pressed not to frown.
"I don't think you do. 'Cause if you did, you'd be gentle. You'd be kind. You wouldn't leave me all alone. You're breaking my heart, Sera..."
"That's..." She wanted to say absurd. But he looked positively desperate. And since she was suffering a shattered heart of her own, she was inclined to be kinder than she would normally have been to a man who'd professed such rubbish after only three days.
"Billy," she said gently, "I'm just going home. To get a change of clothes. And to bake some pies. Then I'll come back on Saturday, okay? I'll even bring you a pie. What's your favorite?"
But he ignored the question. "Saturday's too long! There're bad men out there. Bushwhackers, and sheriff killers, and... and worse. I can't protect you if you ride off by yourself. You have to wait."
Was he feverish? She was sorely tempted to rip off a glove and press the back of her hand to his forehead.
As if guessing her thoughts, he grabbed her fingers and kissed them. The intensity of his gaze was magnetic. Impossible to resist. It drew her deeply into those sapphire fathoms. Only inches away, she noticed for the first time that his eyes weren't simply blue. They were cerulean, with flecks of emerald and gold.
Mesmerized by those dilated orbs, she felt her pulse speed and her skin warm. Then a shadow flitted across those compelling eyes, and she worried that he might be hiding some secret.
"I don't understand," she whispered. "Why are you so upset?"
"You saved my life. I would never hurt you, angel. Never. Do you believe me?"
She nodded. "I do but—"
"And I would never let any other man hurt you, either. I swear. You have to trust me, Sera. Don't leave the orphanage. Not yet. Just wait a few days longer. 'Til Thursday. I should be able to walk by then. I'll be able to go with you. I... I can take you to Founder's Day."
The offer was tempting, she had to admit. Attend Founder's Day with Billy? Put Jesse to shame with her beautiful new beau?
Unfortunately, she had agreed to attend Founder's Day with Henry. Even though the dance had been postponed for a week, he would be expecting her to accompany him.
Unless, of course, you confess to the preacher all the things that you and Jesse did in the stable last Saturday night...
Billy wriggled to the edge of the bed, leaning closer, touching her cheek. His gaze seemed to be memorizing every detail of her face. He slid his warm, callused fingers along her jawline, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"Stay with me," he whispered huskily. "I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe."
His thumb was stroking her cheekbone. She could feel him willing her closer, willing her to press her lips against his. Butterflies launched in her belly.
"I think..."
"Don't think," he murmured. "Kiss me."
His breaths were warm and compelling on her lips. A shudder moved through her length.
She didn't know how it started, exactly. Did he lower his head? Did she raise hers? All she knew was that his mouth was nuzzling hers, tenderly, sweetly, courting a response. Tears brimmed, threatening to spill past her lashes.
"Angel," he breathed. "You taste like nectar." The tip of his tongue traced her bottom lip. "And you smell like... like..."
"Gardenias?"
"Gardenias," he agreed, licking both her lips now. "You'd make such a beautiful bride..."
She gasped, and his tongue slipped inside her mouth. Her ears were still ringing after hearing him dangle her most cherished dream, like a carrot, under her nose.
She clutched his shoulder, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. A whirlwind of confusing sensations coursed through her. There was the leather and linen scent of him, the mint on his breath, the pleasure of his velvet tongue, thrusting so tenderly into her mouth.
But she felt heartsick. And worried, too. He'd asked her to trust him. After only three days, how could she possibly believe Billy's tale that he had feelings for her?
Her angry, hurting side protested. Why should you care? Why shouldn't you just kiss him and enjoy the pleasure? You don't owe him anything.
Besides, isn't that what men do to women? Offer lust in place of love? Give pleasure instead of commitment? Isn't that what Jesse did? And Kit?'
She trembled. She opened her mouth to Billy's.
But her conscience wouldn't let her off the hook that easily. In a flash, Jesse's hungry, jungle-cat eyes were burning in her mind's eye.
Her grief swelled.
"Billy, p-please stop. I haven't been honest with you. I'm... I'm in love with somebody else."
"Aw, sugar," he murmured, kissing the tears from her cheeks. "I know you think you are. But he's lower than a snake's belly. You'll only wind up getting hurt with the hillbilly."
"H-hillbilly?"
"Bow-legged, tow-headed fella. Peach-fuzz on his chin."
"No." She pushed Billy away, shaking her head. She didn't know how or where he'd met Kit, but he'd described the skunk to perfection. "Not Kit McCoy. At least, not any more. I love Jesse."
Cass choked on his breath. "Jesse?"
Sera flinched at his vehemence, biting her kiss-swollen lip.
Cass shook his head, mostly to clear it. No, he told himself staunchly. It can't be. There's more than one Jesse in the world...
Besides, his Jesse was supposed to be smoking peyote and chanting gibberish to his Great Spirit in the mountains, not risking arrest in some pissante town.
His Jesse was supposed to be abstaining from barn-loft romps with two-legged females, not sniffing out the skirts
of some White woman.
Cass forced civility back into his tone. "Jesse, huh?"
She nodded warily.
"Hmm." He rubbed his chin, giving his Coyote mind time to race. If he told Sera what he knew about this Kit McCoy's scheme to marry her and bilk her brother out of a fortune, she might believe him.
Then again, she might not.
And what was he supposed to say to convince her?
"Well, ya see, hon, I was eavesdropping on your pal, Kit, 'cause I was tracking Thorn Taggart, who was tracking my old outlaw boss, Black Bart.
"Thorn's a bounty hunter who wants me dead for giving him a limp. Oh—and for helping Bart commit a stage coach robbery that went wrong a few years back. Thorn's Pa was on that stage, and his Pa's ticker stopped working. But that wasn't Bart's fault. Or mine, either..."
Yeah. Right. The idiot who said the truth would set you free had never had some geezer drop dead on him in the middle of a stage coach heist.
Cass decided that he'd be wiser to play dumb, especially in matters where Collie was concerned. That pup could sniff out deceit the way a weasel sniffed out chicken blood. If Cass was going to save the kid's life, he had to make Collie trust him. And the kid wouldn't trust him, if he guessed that Cass was after that payroll loot.
In the meantime, Cass's romantic side just couldn't pass up an opportunity to save a damsel in distress. Sera needed him more than she knew. Thorn wouldn't have any qualms about blowing out her brains right after he blew out Collie's. 'Course, Sera might not see things that way. And Cass didn't have much leverage to convince her—yet.
But if there was one thing he knew about women, especially women Sera's age, they fell in and out of love faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind. Cass figured he just needed to nudge her in the right direction.
"Well, I don't see a ring on your finger, Miss Sera. You sure this Jesse fella deserves you?"
She fidgeted, averting her eyes.
Just what I figured. A one-sided romance. Nipping this one in the bud shouldn't be too difficult.
"Aw, angel. Don't go swallowing an overdose of woe," Cass crooned in his best Sagebrush Romeo's voice. He patted the mattress by his hip. "Why don't you come over here and tell me all about him?"
"W-Why would you want to know about Jesse?"
"He's my competition, isn't he?"
Seduced by an Angel (Velvet Lies, Book 3) Page 21