Texas Blonde

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Texas Blonde Page 9

by Victoria Thompson


  At long last, the exposure was complete, and Cody helped her remove the plate holder and carried it back to the wagon for her. "Can I help you inside, too?" Cody asked with almost pathetic eagerness.

  "There probably isn't room for two inside that wagon."

  Josh pointed out sharply. Although he had finished his conversation with Cookie, he had lingered involuntarily to watch Felicity work, and a good thing, too. He didn't like the idea of Cody and Felicity being all alone inside that tiny space, in the dark, not when Cody kept looking at her like she was first prize at the county fair.

  Felicity had intended to turn down Cody's offer, but Mr. Logan's obvious disapproval made her reconsider. Last night he had kissed her and then ordered her to forget it had ever happened. Now he was insulting her by leaving the ranch instead of letting her make his picture. To top things off, he wanted to impose his will on her behavior. Just who did he think he was to make her decisions for her? She briefly considered asking him but decided that this was too public a situation for any sort of confrontation. Instead she smiled sweetly at Cody. "It will be a little crowded, but my father and I used to work together all the time. If you'd like to learn how to develop the plates, you could do that while I prepare the next one, and we'd be able to do them a lot faster."

  "That'd be great!" Cody exclaimed, and followed her inside.

  Josh scowled as the door closed behind them. What was wrong with her anyway? Didn't she have a lick of sense? Didn't that father of hers teach her anything about men? Cody might look young and harmless, but there was nothing harmless about a male on the prowl, and Cody Wells was definitely on the prowl. If anything, what had happened to her last night should have convinced her to be careful, Josh thought acidly.

  Aside from a few envious comments, the other men seemed to notice nothing peculiar in the new arrangement, and that irritated Josh even more. Of course, he was the one responsible for her safety, so he was the one who should be most concerned, he rationalized. And he was concerned. He realized now that he never should have let her stay at the ranch this long. The men were bound to start mooning over her, and that would cause no end of trouble. He'd been stupid to think he had to wait for Blanche to get home. He could take her into town. Mrs. Hankins, the storekeeper's wife, or any of the other women in town would take her in. He could make the arrangements today. Yes, that was the solution. He would take her into town first thing in the morning. Then life would get back to normal.

  Without waiting for Felicity and Cody to finish their task, Josh left, going into the barn to hitch up the spring wagon. Just as he slapped the team into motion, he caught a glimpse of the girl coming out of the wagon, Cody at her heels. He forced himself to keep going.

  Felicity heard the wagon rumble by, but she refused to look up to see if he was watching her. She had more important things to do than to worry about Mr. Joshua Logan.

  "Where's Cookie?" Felicity demanded in her no-nonsense-tolerated voice. "He's the one I'm going to do next!"

  That, of course, caused quite a reaction, both among the men, who were delighted, and with Cookie, who wasn't really all that sure he wanted to get his picture made at all. Everyone seemed to forget that Mr. Logan had left. Everyone except Felicity.

  Josh managed to find a place on the busy street in front of the mercantile in which to squeeze his wagon. The town was bustling with activity from all the ranchers who had made the weekly trek in for supplies and socializing. Taking the steps up to the wooden sidewalk in one bound, Josh strolled into the store.

  "Well, hello again, Mr. Logan," Mrs. Hankins called to him as he walked in the door. The storekeeper's wife waved him over to where she stood behind the counter waiting on a customer. When she finished, she turned to Josh. "How did your little houseguest like the clothes?" she inquired cheerfully.

  "She liked them fine," Josh said tersely. Mrs. Hankins still believed, as Josh had led her to, that Felicity was a young girl. Somehow if he wanted her to take Felicity in, he would have to disabuse Mrs. Hankins of that notion.

  "Did they fit her all right? I was so worried they'd be too big, but they were the smallest things we had ready-made…" Mrs. Hankins rattled on, to Josh's annoyance.

  Fortunately, Mr. Hankins came in at that moment and rescued him.

  "Yes, what are you going to do with the girl, Josh?" he asked.

  Here it was, the perfect opportunity to make his request, but the words refused to come. "I'll take her over to Blanche Delano's in a day or two, when she's up and around," Josh said, wondering even as he spoke why it seemed important to give the impression that Felicity was still an invalid.

  "Oh, that's a good idea," Mrs. Hankins confirmed. "Of course, you know Mrs. Delano is still in Dallas, but we expect her back early next week. I reckon by then the poor little thing will be able to travel. What did you say her name was?"

  Josh was spared from answering when another customer came in and distracted Mrs. Hankins. He turned to Mr. Hankins. "Here's a few things I need," he said, handing the storekeeper a list. "I'll be back in a few minutes. My wagon is out front." With that, Josh turned and left before Mrs. Hankins could make any further inquiries about his "little houseguest."

  When Josh came back about fifteen minutes later, having made a quick tour of the main street of town, he met Mr. Hankins, who was carrying out the last of his supplies. "Thanks," Josh said. "Put it on my account."

  "Josh, wait a minute. There's something I need to tell you," Hankins said, stopping Josh just as he was about to mount the wagon seat.

  The urgent tone of the man's voice raised the hairs on Josh's neck. Turning warily, Josh braced himself for the first ugly gossip about him and Felicity.

  "There was a man in the store yesterday asking about you," Hankins said, pulling a bandana out of his back pocket to wipe his forehead. "A colored man. He wanted to know where your ranch was and how to get out there."

  Josh saw nothing ominous in such an event. "Was he looking for a job?" Josh asked.

  Hankins's expression remained grim. "I don't think so. Remember I said he was a colored man? He was tall, real tall, even taller than you, and he… he asked about Candace."

  "Candace?" Josh echoed, completely puzzled.

  "Yes, he wanted to know if Candace still worked for you. He described her and everything. That's what made it stick in my mind, the way he described her as being so tall. It made me look at him close and, by God, if he didn't look like her, too."

  Josh considered this. "How old a man was he?"

  "I couldn't rightly say. With some folks, it's hard to tell. He had old eyes, if you know what I mean, and silver-gray hair, but he didn't seem all that old."

  "He might be some kin to her," Josh said. Back in Virginia, Candace had been owned by the Logan family, who had presented her as a gift to Josh's mother when she married his father. Candace would have had lots of kinfolk back on the old Logan plantation. Since the war had destroyed the plantation, they were now all scattered. One of them must have found his way to Texas. "I reckon he'll show up out at our place soon," Josh said with a smile.

  "No, you don't understand, Josh," Hankins said, gripping Josh's arm anxiously. "He wasn't asking nice. He was mean, clear to the bone. It was almost like…" He trailed off uncertainly.

  "Like what?"

  "Like he wanted to do Candace some harm." The storekeeper shrugged apologetically, realizing his statement was somewhat melodramatic but unwilling to amend it.

  "Who would want to hurt Candace?" Josh asked, incredulous.

  "I think this fellow might."

  Josh could only stare at him. Josh had known Hankins for a long time and he was not easily spooked. "Have you seen this fellow around town today?"

  Hankins shook his head. "I think he slept at the livery last night. Maybe you can pick up his trail there."

  "Thanks," Josh said, turning toward the livery stable.

  "Good luck," Hankins called after him.

  Josh spent another hour in town, questioning
first the livery stable attendant and then most of the other merchants, but the man had disappeared. Not even the bartender had seen him that day. Defeated, Josh returned to his wagon, having decided he should return to the ranch as soon as possible to tell Candace about the mysterious stranger. Perhaps she would know who he was.

  Asa Gordon read over the note he had just written. He did not like the message it contained, but he would have to send it anyway. The news that Felicity Storm had disappeared- yet again-would please no one, least of all his client. Unfortunately, part of his job was filing reports, even when they were unsatifactory.

  He folded this report carefully and stuffed it into an envelope.

  "Alexander!" he called. A moment later a harried-looking young man came into Asa's office. "Would you see that this is delivered immediately?" he asked, scrawling a name and address on the envelope and then handing it to his secretary.

  "Yes, sir," Alexander muttered, carrying the message out of the room.

  When the door had closed behind the boy, Asa allowed himself a weary sigh. Papers. Messages. Reports. Meetings. Was that all he had left to look forward to? The thought depressed him.

  He glanced out the window at the busy street below, but his mind was far away, in Texas with the elusive Miss Felicity Storm. For a few minutes he envied operative Smythe his opportunity to explore the wilds of Texas on this difficult quest.

  Smythe was one of his best men. If Smythe couldn't find her, she simply wasn't there. Asa knew this. Still, he could not ignore his own pride, which reminded him he had once been one of the "best men," too. If he should go to Texas, if he should look for Storm and the girl…

  Was there any reason why he shouldn't?

  Chapter Four

  When she had taken photographs of all the men, Felicity explained that they would have to stop the session for a few hours because the sun was too high. The shadows it cast would spoil the pictures.

  Cookie managed to rustle up a cold meal, and soon the men drifted over to the house for dinner. Felicity could not help lingering alone in the yard for just a moment to stare longingly at the empty road one last time. She hated herself for missing him, for feeling hurt at the way he had snubbed her, but she couldn't seem to stop.

  "How long do we have to wait?" Cody asked when at last she wandered into the dining room.

  "A few hours," she replied, trying to match the other's enthusiasm. "When the sun starts slanting toward the west, it will be just right for photographing the house. I want to get some pictures of all of you in front of it."

  This information excited the men all over again, and they began to discuss whether or not to change their clothes. Felicity listened to the conversation with only half an ear. She was straining to catch the sound of a wagon pulling up in the ranch yard.

  On the drive out from town, Josh spent a good deal of time considering who this mysterious stranger might be. He figured that the man must be one of Candace's relatives, a brother or uncle if what Hankins had said about the resemblance was correct. What he could not credit, however, was Hankins's theory that the man meant Candace no good. After thinking it over, he realized that a black man, a former slave, traveling alone in Texas would have to be tough in order to survive. Hankins must have mistaken that toughness for evil, bestowing on the man a malevolence he did not possess.

  This was the only explanation Josh could find since the very idea that a man would come halfway across the country for some sinister purpose against Candace was preposterous. He would still ask Candace about him, of course. The man might very well have arrived at the ranch already, making such an inquiry unnecessary, but if not, Candace would certainly want to know to expect him.

  No longer feeling any urgency about his mission, Josh drove leisurely up to the ranch. He was a little surprised to find the yard deserted when he drove in, but he was pleased to note that the camera was still in position. He quickly surmised from the time that everyone had gone inside to eat. In an effort to distract his mind from thoughts of photographs-and photographers-he reminded himself that he had to see Candace.

  Except that he could not find her. Having no other choice, he followed the sound of voices into the dining room.

  "Hey, Mr. Logan! You're back!"

  "Now Miss Felicity can make your picture!"

  The men greeted him boisterously while Felicity tried very diligently not to react at all. She had heard his wagon in the yard, heard every one of his footsteps from the moment he entered the house. She calmly raised her head and looked at him. She would make him no offers. If he wanted his picture taken, he would have to say so.

  "I thought you were finished out there," Josh said, stalling.

  "Oh no," Cody explained helpfully. "We just had to stop because the sun got too high. We'll be starting up again any time now. We can do you first thing."

  Josh knew an inexplicable anger at Cody's use of the word "we," but before he could reply, the very person he had been fruitlessly searching for appeared at his elbow.

  "You'll have to change your clothes first, Mr. Josh," Candace ordered.

  "I need to talk to you, Candace."

  "Course you do," Candace agreed readily, taking his arm and drawing him out of the room. "I'll see he's ready," she called back over her shoulder to Felicity.

  Candace did not stop until she had taken Josh into his own bedroom and closed the door. Josh appreciated the privacy.

  "There's a man in town-" he began, but Candace wasn't listening.

  "I ought to wear you out for what you did," she whispered furiously.

  A little taken aback, Josh stared at her. "What did I do?"

  "You insulted that poor little girl. She set this whole thing up just to show you how much she appreciates the way you took her in and then you go running off to town like you didn't have anything better to do. You hurt her feelings." Candace glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Josh thought this over and supposed she was right. He hadn't really thought about Felicity's feelings in all of this.

  Candace did not give him a chance to defend himself. "Now, you put on them clothes," she said, gesturing to the suit still laid out on the bed, "and get yourself out there and let her take as many pictures of you as she wants." Turning on her heel, she flounced to the door, but before she opened it, she turned back. "And if you're half the man I think you are, you'll apologize, too."

  Josh swore as the door slammed behind her, but he wasn't certain if he was swearing at her or at himself. Furiously, he tore off his dusty clothes, all thoughts of the mystery man wiped completely from his mind.

  Not quite certain that Mr. Logan would really allow her to photograph him, Felicity still gave her instructions to Cody, who enlisted a few helpers and headed back to the ranch house. While they were gone, she had some of the other men roll up the backdrop she had been using and hang up another one in a new position to take advantage of the altered position of the sun.

  Cody and the other men soon returned with the items she had requested from the house, and she directed them on just how to arrange the scene. They put the bearskin rug down first in front of the backdrop and then placed the large wingbacked chair in the center.

  Felicity knew she was silly to feel so apprehensive. Mr. Logan was no different from any other man she had ever posed, even if he had kissed her. Still, if he did let her photograph him, she wanted the picture to be the best one she had ever taken. She wanted a good photograph so she would have something to remember him by when…

  Not letting herself finish that thought, she forced a bright little smile to her face when she heard the other men greeting him. But her smile froze in place, exactly the way her heart did, at the sight of him.

  It was the clothes, she told herself. She'd rarely seen a man so finely dressed. He was wearing a black broadcloth suit that fit his broad shoulders and his long legs perfectly. His shirt was snowy white, and for one electric moment she wondered if it was the same one she had slept in that very first da
y.

  "Come and sit down, Mr. Logan," she said stiffly, gesturing toward the chair.

  Josh stepped forward, but he didn't sit immediately. Instead he examined the backdrop she had chosen for him. It looked like the wall in a very fancy house. A parlor house, Josh thought, disgusted.

  Felicity studied the stubborn set of his jaw as he examined the backdrop, uncomfortably aware of how tall he was. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Last night she'd had to stand on tiptoe to… "Is anything wrong?" she asked hastily, struggling to banish that picture from her brain.

  "No," he said, resigned to the inevitable, and seated himself in the chair. She stood in front of him, her small breasts directly in his line of sight. He stared for one long moment, recalling only too clearly how they felt pressed against him.

  "Oh, dear!" Felicity cried, pressing a hand to her chest. For a second Josh thought she was trying to shield herself from his lascivious gaze. "I forgot to prepare the plate. Don't move," she cautioned him as she darted back to the wagon.

  Inside the dark wagon, Felicity chastened herself for becoming so flustered. She would have to get a grip on herself. With fingers that trembled slightly, she carefully coated the next plate. By the time she exited the wagon and handed the plate holder to Cody, she was feeling much calmer.

  She returned to posing her subject, noting with approval that he was wearing a new Stetson, not the stained one he usually wore. She lifted it carefully from his head.

  "Hey, What're you doing?" he protested, reaching for it.

  "I'm going to put it right here on your knee," she informed him, proud that she was able to treat him just as she had treated all the other men. "Now put your hand right here, like this, and hold it." With finger and thumb, she made a minor adjustment to the angle of his wrist, trying not to notice how warm his skin felt through the cuff of his shirt. He smelled clean and fresh, like outdoors, and faintly of tobacco, and so blessedly familiar. "Now rest your other hand on your other knee," she said a little breathlessly.

 

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