Aware that they’d attended school together, Riley was certain a serious relationship hadn’t existed between the two prior to Nik’s recent arrival.
He couldn’t blame Bertie for taking notice of Nik. He was handsome, full of genuine charm, and one of the most likeable people Riley had ever met. There wasn’t an ounce of conceit or guile in the young man, just an open honesty and eagerness to help others that left Riley full of both admiration and agitation.
It would be impossible not to like Nik. Even so, jealousy ate at Riley over the easy friendship the young man shared with Bertie.
He glanced at her again, looking her over from her head to her toes. A white straw hat adorned with white plumes and silk roses in pale shades of yellow and blue topped curls the color of the wheat ripening on the distant hills. Her pale blue gown accented the beguiling shade of her eyes, highlighted the creamy perfection of her cheeks, and drew his focus to her trim waist.
Lest he surrender to the urge to run his hands over her lace-covered arms and back, he scrambled to think of something to distract himself.
“Do you like to read?” Riley blurted, glancing at Bertie once again.
She offered him a confused look that melted into one of gratitude as she realized he attempted to offer a neutral topic of conversation.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Why do you ask? Do you like to read?”
“I do, when I have time.” He leaned back against the wagon seat and rolled his shoulders, stretching them.
Bertie’s eyes followed his every move. She swallowed hard when the fabric of his shirt stretched taut over his lean muscles. Curious if they’d feel as hard as they looked, she wanted to reach out and touch one.
Overheated, she wished she’d brought along a fan but settled for waving a gloved hand in front of her face to stir the air.
Oblivious to the affect he had on her, Riley kept his eyes on the road in front of them. “Garrett let me borrow some copies of Outing magazine. Jack London has a new serialized story called White Fang published in it. Each edition will carry the next installment of the story through October.”
“Bobby let me read his copy of The Call of the Wild by Mr. London. Is this story similar?”
Riley nodded his head. “It is. This story is set during the Klondike Gold Rush in the Yukon Territory. It’s about a wild wolf-dog’s journey to domestication.”
“It sounds like an adventurous tale.”
“I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read so far,” Riley said, straightening on the seat and taking a firmer grip on the reins as they reached the edges of town. With several people purchasing automobiles, he always worried about them frightening the horses when they backfired and chug-chugged past them on the street.
Further discussion about books came to a halt as Riley drove the wagon in front of Caterina’s restaurant and set the brake. Bertie glanced behind them into the wagon bed and noticed the bushel basket of tomatoes she’d picked earlier that morning along with one full of potatoes.
Riley hopped off the wagon and picked up one of the baskets. “Aundy asked me to drop these off. She also said there was a basket she wanted you to take to Ilsa. Do you want to do that while I run over to the feed store and pick up Garrett’s order? I could meet you at the saddle shop when I finish then take you to the mercantile.”
“Okay.” Bertie stood to climb off the wagon seat and felt Riley’s hands on her waist. He swung her to the ground with little effort. When his hands lingered at her waist, she turned her face up to his and caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. Liquid warmth replaced the bleak sadness she’d usually noticed in his gaze, causing her pulse to beat with increasing speed.
Afraid of the pull she felt toward his mouth, she stared at his full bottom lip until Riley cleared his throat and took a step back. He easily hefted the heavy basket of potatoes and moved toward the alley that would take him to Caterina’s back door.
“I’ll meet you at the saddle shop in an hour.”
Unsettled, Bertie picked up a basket from the wagon bed and walked toward Ilsa’s dress shop down the street.
After leaving the basket with Ilsa and visiting with her and Marnie for a few moments, Bertie hurried to her brother’s shop. The door was locked and he didn’t respond to her tapping, so she knew he most likely was off working on a project.
She retraced her steps and turned down a side street that took her to the telephone office. Lacy and Millie greeted her with friendly hugs. Between incoming calls, they caught up on recent happenings and discussed the Independence Day festivities taking place the following day.
“You’ll be at the park, won’t you, Bertie?” Lacy asked. It would be her first time to join in the celebration in town. In past years, her family attended ceremonial dances and games held on the reservation. Ever the dutiful husband, Grant offered to take his new bride out to the reservation to spend the day with her family, but she wanted to experience Pendleton’s revelry.
“I’ll be there. Aundy and Garrett said everyone but the bunkhouse cook plans to attend from the ranch. Li promised to have fireworks ready when we return from town.”
“Oh, I forgot about the Chinese and their fireworks.” Millie grinned at Bertie. “I’m sure it will be quite a show.”
“He’s assured me it will be.” Bertie smiled and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Save me a seat tomorrow. I’d love to sit with you both, but for now, I need to go meet Riley.”
“Riley? Riley Walsh? The handsome and sullen cowboy who bought Marvin Tooley’s place? That Riley?” Millie questioned with a teasing glint in her eye.
“Yes, that Riley. He works for Garrett and the two of us were sent into town to pick up supplies. He went to the feed store while I took some things to Ilsa. I’m supposed to meet him at the saddle shop before we go to the mercantile.” Bertie picked up the reticule she’d set on the counter then straightened her gloves before stepping closer to the door.
“Is he as good at kissing as he looks like he’d be?” Millie’s giggle followed her bold question.
Bertie’s hand hovered above the knob as she whipped her head around and narrowed her gaze at her friend. “I have no idea about what kind of kisser he is or isn’t, Millie. What a question to ask a person. My stars! What’s gotten into you?”
“It’s summer. The season of romance. Maybe you should let a little of it get into you, too.” Millie winked at her. “Or have you set your cap for Nik Nash, instead? You really are having a rough go of it this summer, aren’t you? How dreadful to be stuck out on the ranch with all those fine-looking, unmarried men.”
“You are ridiculous!” Bertie laughed and waved a hand at Millie as she opened the door and stepped outside.
She hastened her step as she crossed the street and walked in the direction of the saddle shop.
It opened the previous year with great success. The store carried a selection of leather goods geared for ranch and farm life, but continued to build a reputation for creating excellent saddles. She’d heard Bobby say the family that owned the business had been trained for generations in the art of leather craftsmanship somewhere in England before they moved to America and eventually made their way to Pendleton.
Bertie tugged on the heavy door and pulled it open as the aroma of leather floated around her, enveloping her in the pleasant scent.
Inside, she glanced around, slightly in awe of the organized appearance of the store. Horse collars hung in orderly rows along one long wall while bridles and harnesses lined the other. Bits, whips, saddle blankets, and tins of oil filled shelves while two rows of saddles rested on saddletrees down the center of the store.
Several men glanced up at her with polite interest. Before one wearing a leather apron could take a step her direction, she confirmed Riley wasn’t among those in the store. Hurriedly, she pushed open the door and rushed outside, away from the building.
Concerned she’d missed Riley, she debated whether she should wait for him or venture to the mercantile to see if
he was there. When a man stumbled out of a saloon down the street, Bertie decided anywhere indoors would be safer than standing outside.
It was detestable for a town with fewer than five thousand residents to have more than thirty saloons, many of them open twenty-four hours a day.
In the midst of her internal debate to walk to the mercantile alone or return inside the store and ask one of the gentlemen to escort her to the mercantile, a beefy hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back against a rotund belly. The stench of sweat and spirits caused Bertie’s nose to wrinkle.
“Well, well, girlie. I ain’t from around these parts, but we should get better acquainted. Where do you work, lovey?”
Appalled the man thought she worked in one of the bawdy houses, Bertie didn’t know whether to be more upset he mistook her for a soiled dove or assumed she’d be interested in a disgusting degenerate like him.
Bertie wrenched her arm free and turned on the man with an angry scowl. He yanked her arm and pulled her to him again. “I’ll have you know, sir, I don’t work here in town and I’m a lady. Now, unhand me, or I shall…”
He clapped a hand over her mouth and dragged her toward the alley. “You ain’t gonna do nothing, girlie, except show me a good time. I ain’t had me a purty little filly like you. I can’t wait to…”
Suddenly, the man released Bertie and slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Horrified, Bertie glanced over to see Riley holding a shovel and breathing heavily, as if he’d run a great distance. Hate and loathing filled his face as he glared at the man on the ground.
Without giving a thought to her actions, Bertie stumbled against Riley and sobbed. He dropped the shovel and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tenderly as she cried. While his hands rubbed soothingly along her back, her body trembled with fear.
He murmured quiet assurances that she was fine and all was well. “It’s okay, Bertie. Nothing happened. You’re safe, now. You’re safe.”
She sniffled and leaned back, taking a handkerchief from her reticule and wiping at her face.
Riley tipped up her chin and grinned at her. She was even pretty when she cried. Some women got all red-eyed and slobbery when they sobbed. Not Bertie.
A few tears clung to her eyelashes, making her eyes look luminous while her cheeks bore a rosier hue than normal. She dabbed her cute little nose and sniffled again.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue.” Bertie’s lip quivered, but she did her best to keep her tears in check.
“You’re welcome.” Riley hesitated to release her. He’d parked the wagon at the mercantile and ran into Marvin Tooley outside the store. They spoke for a few moments then Riley asked Marvin the time. When he told him, Riley broke into a run and headed for the saddle shop, unwilling to keep Bertie waiting.
He rounded the corner in time to see some drunken lout manhandling her into the alley. Riley grabbed the first thing he could find and beaned the idiot over the head.
With the Fourth of July holiday, he supposed there would be even more drunks wandering around town than usual.
The look on Bertie’s face when she turned to him sent his heart plummeting to his feet. Terror mingled with relief when she realized he was there and ran into his arms. Something primitive and powerful, reminiscent of his cavedweller ancestors, made him want to always be there to protect and shelter her.
Riley used his thumbs to brush away a few tears lingering on her cheeks and smiled. “Are you okay, Bertie? Do I need to take you back to the ranch? Would you rather I find your brother or take you to the doctor’s office?”
Bertie let out an unsteady breath, then another. “No. I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute to stop shaking.”
“Take all the time you need.” He wrapped his arms around her again and stood in the shade of the alley, holding her close. It didn’t take long for her trembling to cease. She relaxed against him and his awareness of Bertie, of her body pressed close to his, increased tenfold.
The deep breath he inhaled filled his nose with her alluring fragrance and made his head swim while blazing heat seared through his veins. She felt so good, so right in his arms. The desire to kiss her washed over him with such intensity, Riley bit his tongue until he tasted blood to keep from surrendering to his longings.
The feathery plume on top of Bertie’s hat whipped beneath his nose and across his cheek as she moved her head. Biting back the urge to chuckle, Riley rubbed his nose then dropped his hands.
Bertie swiped at her face with her soggy handkerchief, more anxious to hide her raw emotions than remove any traces of her tears.
She’d never, in her entire life, felt as secure and safe as she had in Riley’s arms. She didn’t ever want to leave the protective circle he’d placed around her. Not only had she found comfort there, she’d found herself wholly attracted to Riley. The unreasonable yearning she felt to experience his kiss made her want to throw her arms around his neck and pull his mouth down to meet her willing lips.
Disturbed by how badly she wanted to put her thoughts into action, she glanced down at the unconscious man behind her. Firmly refusing to consider what might have happened if Riley hadn’t arrived when he did, Bertie took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and pasted on a smile.
“I believe I’m ready to proceed with our errands. Should we let the sheriff know what happened, though?” Bertie accepted the arm Riley held out to her and walked with him out of the alley and over to the door of the saddle shop.
“Let’s ask inside for them to telephone the sheriff,” Riley said, holding open the shop door while Bertie stepped inside.
After the owner of the saddle shop placed a call to the sheriff’s office, Kade arrived and hauled the man off to jail. Lars took Bertie and Riley’s statements.
Once he left, Riley picked up a new saddle Aundy had ordered along with a pair of handmade boots for Garrett. Together, he and Bertie walked from the saddle shop to the mercantile.
Riley set the boots and saddle in the wagon on top of sacks of feed then escorted Bertie inside the mercantile. While she and Mr. Johnson filled Aundy’s list of supplies, Riley ran over to the boarding house and talked the new Mrs. Tooley into selling him a picnic lunch he and Bertie could eat on the way back to Nash’s Folly.
When he returned to the mercantile, Bertie appeared enthralled with a display of fans while Mr. Johnson boxed up Aundy’s supplies.
“Need a fan?” Riley asked, stepping behind Bertie.
“Oh!” She spun around so fast, he wondered if the plume on her hat might take flight. “Mercy! You scared me half witless, Riley.” Her hand settled at her throat and she breathed heavily, drawing his gaze to her bosom.
Desperate for a distraction, he glanced behind her to the display of fans and repeated his question. “Do you need a fan?”
“I don’t know that I need one, but I was admiring these.” Bertie turned back around and picked up a fan. With a snap of her wrist, she unfurled the bit of cream silk painted with yellow roses then held it in front of her face. The fan moved ever so slightly as she playfully batted her eyelashes at him. “Isn’t this gorgeous?”
Riley swallowed hard and nodded his head. He could care less about the fan, but Bertie was indeed gorgeous and looked entirely too appealing for her own good. “Gorgeous.” The word nearly choked him as he forced it out before turning away and mumbling something about needing a new pair of gloves.
While Bertie accompanied Mr. Johnson’s stock boy out to the wagon with the supplies, Riley paid for the gloves. Impulsively, he added the fan Bertie had fluttered at him to his purchases.
Mr. Johnson grinned as he wrapped it in a piece of plain brown paper and tied it with a bit of string.
Riley stowed it under the seat, assisted Bertie into the wagon and wondered how she could appear so calm after the unsettling experience she’d had outside the saddle shop. Guilt plagued him that he’d somehow let her down. She’d ventured to Pendleton under his protection and he’d sent her on her way without
a thought to someone assaulting her in broad daylight.
“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Bertie asked as she and Riley headed out of Pendleton toward Nash’s Folly. “Will you join in the festivities?”
“Nah. I plan to get caught up on some work at home.”
Bertie placed her hand on his arm and shook her head, making the curls that had worked free of their confinement on top of her head dance enticingly around her face. “You have to go, Riley. It’s positively un-American to work on the Fourth of July. Won’t you please come?”
Riley grinned. If she didn’t move her soft little hand off his arm soon, he might stop the wagon and finally get a taste of those sweet lips. They’d barely cleared the edges of town when Bertie had peeled off her gloves and shoved them into her reticule, saying it was much too warm to wear them.
It was too warm. In fact, it felt sweltering outside.
And the more Bertie smiled and relaxed around him, the hotter Riley’s temperature ran. He’d removed his neckerchief, rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows and considered what would happen if he yanked off his shirt.
He glanced over at Bertie’s flushed face and felt pity for the female persuasion. Layers of petticoats, cinched up corsets, shirtwaists fastened nearly to their ears, gloves, stockings and all the feminine articles of clothing looked so hot and uncomfortable.
Often, he’d encouraged his wife to forego her stockings and corset, to leave the top buttons of her shirtwaists open, and be sensible about what she wore on the farm when the summer heat beat down on them.
For a moment, a bittersweet moment, he recalled how happy he’d once been.
“You look sad. Are you okay?”
Bertie’s voice drew Riley out of his musings and back to the present. Regardless of his determination to keep his distance from Bertie, he couldn’t muster the energy to hold her at arm’s length on the ride home. Not when he much preferred the idea of holding her close.
“I’m the one who should be asking you that question.” Riley studied her for several heartbeats. “Are you sure you’re well? We should have located your brother so you could tell him what happened.”
Bertie (Pendleton Petticoats Book 6) Page 12