“It sounds like you’ve been taught all the important things, then.”
“I think so.” Patrick took a deep breath, and then asked, “Do you love her?”
The question was unexpected, but then everything about the meeting was unusual. Jack evaded giving an honest answer by stating the obvious.
“You do. That much is clear.”
Without hesitation, Patrick acknowledged his feelings. “I do.” Some of his vigor ebbed, and his chin dropped slightly. His deflation seemed to make his broad shoulders shrink. He pressed, “But do you? Love her, I mean.”
Jack refused to be cornered, even by someone he was quickly learning to respect. How he did—or did not—feel for any female in town was no one’s business save his own.
“My feelings belong to me until I decide to divulge them.” He smiled, hoping to put an end to the conversation. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”
Patrick’s hand shot out again, but Jack was prepared this time. He sidestepped the grasp, shaking his head disbelievingly. “That worked once but I don’t suggest you try it a second time. I might not be as amiable to being held up as I was a minute ago. It would be wise for you to remember that.”
“Point taken. I apologize for my rude behavior. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Patrick let his hand drop to his side. He clutched the small bundle he held so tightly the string holding it closed tore one edge of the brown wrapping paper. It was a small rip but it pulled the paper open wide enough to expose a flash of yellow.
Tearing his gaze from the rent in the bundle, and pulling his mind from thoughts about fripperies designed to woo females, Jack brushed aside the apology. He felt sorry for the other man, and suddenly he wasn’t as anxious to be done with him as he had been only moments earlier.
“Don’t apologize.” Jack reached up, removed his hat and slapped it against one thigh. Dust flew into the air, so he waved his free hand to clear it. After he’d put his hat back in place, he smiled—one of those between-men smiles that women aren’t ordinarily privy to. “Listen, we all know how a woman can tie a man up in knots. They’re supposed to be the weaker sex but by God, the joke’s on us, isn’t it?”
Patrick released a shaky breath. He chuckled, and then said, “Amen to that. My grandfather, being a pastor and all, has seen a lot of life.”
“I’ll bet he has,” Jack said. He could only imagine all the things—both good and bad—a man of the cloth might encounter.
“Well, he’s always said that God made women stronger than any man living could ever dream of being.”
“Smart man, your grandfather.”
“He surely is.” Patrick warmed to the subject, and managed a tight smile. “You know, I always figured it was the bit pertaining to childbirth that he alluded to, but now that I’m of an age where I’m courting, I’m beginning to see what he meant all these years. Just when I think I know my own mind, a woman, so slight I could pick her up and twirl her about, changes it for me with not much more than a turning of one slim shoulder. Can you believe that?”
Jack’s own mind felt like it had been made and remade so many times his head ached.
“I surely do. And the funny thing is, any woman you might want to pick up and twirl can only be twirled if she allows it.” Jack gave a conspiratorial wink. “I’ve had a mind to twirl a few ladies in my time but I’ve never been stupid enough to do so without first asking permission.”
“I knew you and I would see eye to eye, Jack.” Patrick pushed his hat back on his head. He ran a thoughtful finger along his temple.
Jack saw his hair had been greased and parted, and it, too, had been scented. Together with the package and aftershave, the only conclusion to be drawn was that Patrick was prepared to call on a woman. But if not Kristen…then who?
Chapter Fifteen
Relief coursed through Jack’s veins when Kristen answered his knock on the boardinghouse’s front door. Despite the late hour, she looked fresh. It took every ounce of self-restraint he had not to lean forward and bury his head in her golden hair, inhaling the sweetness of her the way he would a hothouse lily.
A smile spread slowly across Kristen’s face. The way her bow-shaped lips pursed did wondrous things to his heart.
Take your eyes off her mouth, man! You’re here to court her, not devour her!
“Jack. What a pleasant surprise.” She did not invite him in, nor did she step out onto the porch.
“I hoped you might think so,” he answered, praying his pounding heart was recognizable only to his own ears. It was strange, the way she kept her body in the doorway. Usually a caller received an invitation to enter, or at the very least a hostess might come outside to chat for a few minutes. But this…half in and half out…
Jack didn’t have long to consider the meaning behind her behavior. Kristen wasted no words pretending she was something she wasn’t.
“So, you’ve come to your senses, have you?”
Her words made him feel like an errant child. He’d forgotten his ridiculous behavior. So much had happened since they sat together in the makeshift park that he’d put her dashing away from him completely out of his mind.
Time to pay the piper.
“I did show my childish side in the park, didn’t I?” He had removed his hat before knocking on the door. Now he held it earnestly over his heart.
“You did.” Kristen’s tone was teasing, her laughter barely concealed.
So he wasn’t completely in the doghouse! Jack pressed his luck, and raised one eyebrow in question.
“Any chance you’ll look kindly on this poor man’s misdeed? Any hope you’ll just think ‘Poor Jack, he spoke without thinking’?”
“‘Poor Jack’…if memory serves me right, the whole ‘Poor’ thing is what set you off.”
Her lips twitched as she struggled to remain serious. Jack was mesmerized by the way they pulled together, so soft and tender looking, and oh-so pink. He longed to reach a finger out, and trace the outline of her smile.
He remembered himself, and cleared his throat, then shrugged. “You make me sound like a bundle of dynamite. I admit, I spoke out of turn but I don’t think I blew my stack or acted too harshly.”
Capitulation came easily. “You’re right,” Kristen answered with a grin.
She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. When she walked over to the porch railing, he followed. She perched on the rail, one delicate hand wrapped tightly around the top railing, and went on, “Your green-eyed behavior was actually pretty amusing. I didn’t realize a man of your apparent good breeding could fly into such a jealous snit.”
“Snit? I did no such thing.” He sputtered over the words. No one had ever accused him of being jealous before, but he didn’t want to dispute that point. In his heart, he recognized it as the truth. But the snit comment…that he took umbrage to. Rather than have her storm off again, he changed tactics. Thinking fast, he teased, “Besides, isn’t a snit something a woman wears to the theatre? Or, let me see…I know! A snit is the place where birds find food for their young, isn’t it? No, no…that’s not right… Hmm, I seem to recall hearing somewhere that a snit is one of those European horse—”
“Stop! I give up!” Kristen clutched her middle, laughing so hard she teetered on the railing. He reached a steadying hand out, holding lightly onto her upper arm until she got herself under control and waved him away. “You’re a funny man, Jack Sterling. I like that—a sense of humor—in a person, so I’m going to overlook your―”
He held his right hand up, palm facing her, and cut her off. “Don’t say it! I don’t want to hear the word again, if you don’t mind.” He dropped his hand, laughing, and sat on the railing beside her.
“Fine, I won’t say it.”
Her cheeks were rosier than usual, the laughter bringing a full bloom to her face. Jack could have sat and stared at her all day long but that wouldn’t be wise. Sooner or later, he would want to kiss her.
Better s
tick to the plan.
He stood, brushing his palms down his thighs to wipe away the moisture. “I wondered if you would consider taking a walk with me. Not far,” he rushed to add when she looked up at the sun. “Just down to the creek. It’s cooler by the water, and much more pleasing than strolling along these dusty sidewalks.”
Just then a horse clip-clopped by, the buggy it pulled clattering over the uneven lane as noisily a locomotive off its tracks. The contraption was so deafening, they had to refrain from speaking until it passed.
He smiled. “See? Too loud here for two people to have a civilized conversation. So, what do you say? Are you up to a stroll by the creek? I promise to have you back before Mrs. King puts dinner on the table.”
Emotions flitted so quickly across her face that it seemed she considered, discarded, and reconsidered a multitude of options in mere seconds, much like a butterfly choosing which flower to light upon
Finally, she nodded. “Let me get my bonnet.”
****
A gentle breeze blew off the water, fanning her cheeks and lifting the hair on the nape of her neck. Kristen untied her bonnet, and then pulled it off her head. She tied the ribbons, dangling the bonnet from her fingertips as they walked.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” A cottonwood branch had fallen into the center of the creek, forming a natural diversion for the water to follow. Some of the current parted around the branch; a gentle spray flew up and over the highest part of it. A miniature rainbow shone in the mist.
“Yes, it certainly is.” Jack’s tone caught her attention, and she tore her gaze from the rainbow to look at his face. As she suspected, her companion wasn’t gazing at the creek, the branch or the rainbow. Instead, he stared down at her, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips.
Uh-oh.
“The rainbow, Jack.” She pointed to the creek. “Do you see it?”
He smiled fully. “I see it. It’s nice.” Removing his hat from his head and slapping it against his thigh, a habit of his she had come to recognize, he gave her a thoughtful, almost appraising, glance. Then he looked over at the creek before he brought his gaze back to hers. “Yes, it’s nice, but it’s not, by any stretch of the imagination, the prettiest sight down here this afternoon.”
The compliment was sweet, and since he didn’t seem to expect any reply, she simply returned his smile. When Jack reached for her bonnet, she gave it to him. He laid the bonnet and his hat on the end of a fallen log beside them, and then held his arm out before them. Kristen took the silent invitation, and continued strolling along the creek bank.
“Much more pleasant to walk without having to tote our belongings, isn’t it?” His conversation was so ordinary, so harmless and non-demanding, it put Kristen at ease.
When they first arrived at the creek, and she had glanced at the spot where she and Patrick had sat on the picnic blanket, a wave of apprehension hit her. It was fast-moving, though, and gone almost before she realized it had arrived. Jack and Patrick were different men, and even if the location was the same, her feelings and theirs as well would make this a very different outing. Wouldn’t it?
“It is.” Her hands swung at her sides, and she felt lighter without having to drag her bonnet around with her. “And I don’t believe there will be much other foot traffic here this late in the day, so I’m sure our things are perfectly safe back there on the log.”
“I believe you’re right. I haven’t heard of any hat thieves or bonnet rustlers lurking about since I’ve been in town.” Jack’s smile made the sun seem dimmer by comparison. She loved it that he smiled so often, and joked so freely.
“Nor have I.”
They strolled slowly, enjoying every minute of the quiet. Neither was in a hurry, their steps evenly matched. A lark sang out, and Kristen offered the information she learned from Patrick about the bird.
“Now that bird has some admirable traits,” Jack said with a nod. “Leaving when it feels closed in, not wanting anyone else to encroach on what belongs to it and being more concerned for caring for its family than its own well-being—well, that’s just the kind of bird I think I’d like having in my backyard. Sounds honest, and I like that in birds. People, too.”
Kristen’s spine stiffened. Under normal circumstances, honesty was a trait she held in high esteem, as well. But these weren’t ordinary times, and while she hadn’t out-and-out lied to Jack she had been evasive. Guilt pricked her—but not enough that she was willing to come clean with him and own up to her lies-by-omission.
Better to change the subject.
“I’ve been giving lessons to the revue dancers. They all live at Brown’s Rest, so it’s no trouble to schedule classes around their dance programs.”
Jack looked momentarily annoyed that she had broached a new topic, but he quickly recovered. He seemed interested when he asked, “What sort of lessons do you give? Bird identification lessons?”
She smiled, thankful he hadn’t pressed the honesty point and even more grateful for his fast, witty repartee.
“No, I don’t give birding lessons.” She poked Jack in the upper arm. It was a quick gesture but she felt the muscle beneath his shirt, the hardness of his body, in that one small touch. Forcing her attention from Jack’s muscles and onto the girls and their lessons, she said, “I teach them about speaking properly, coaching them on both delivery and sentence formation. Also, I instruct them on some of the, ah, finer points of keeping house. You know, dealing with servants and household accounting, that sort of thing.”
“Do you think the dancing girls will have need of those talents? I have to be honest here,” he glanced down at her but Kristen kept her gaze fixed on the uneven ground at her feet. The last thing she wanted to do was stumble and fall into the creek! Too, not looking at Jack when he talked about honesty didn’t bring a blush to her cheeks. “I have yet to meet a revue dancer who has a houseful of servants under her care. And, one step further than that, I’ve never heard one of those revue dancers utter a single, solitary word from the stage. So, are you sure the lessons shouldn’t be in something they can use, like the newest dance steps from…oh, I don’t know…New York or Boston, maybe?”
“Excuse me?” Kristen’s heart skipped a beat.
“Dance lessons. You know, the newest steps and all. I just figure they might be more useful than the servant angle. And since you’re from back east, I just thought you might be the go-to gal on dancing, that’s all.”
She refused to rise to the bait. With as innocent a smile as she could muster, Kristen turned to Jack and said, “Oh, but you’re mistaken. Most of these ladies aren’t going to be dancers forever. They’re going to move on and find new lives for themselves. I’m just helping them prepare for what lies ahead.”
“So they can leave the past behind them?” The meaningful stare he gave her made Kristen uneasy but she held her ground.
“That’s right. I’m going to help them do just that. And if they never choose to divulge their pasts, no one will suspect what they’ve done or where they’ve been because they will be ready and able to take on new challenges.” She swallowed, her throat feeling much tighter than it should, before she lifted her chin. “A woman should have choices in this life. I’m just giving the revue dancers some choices. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
He shook his head. “No, there isn’t.”
Whew! Now to change the subject again…
“I’m glad we agree. Now, on a more pleasurable note, I’ve begun giving embroidery lessons in the afternoons, as well. There will be watercolor painting lessons in the future, if the stitching is ever successfully mastered. At this point, it’s anyone’s guess whether some of the ladies will sew without leaving blood spots on their work, but at least we’re enjoying ourselves. That’s important, I think. To enjoy what you do.”
“Mmm hmm…”
Leave it to him to suddenly close up like a clam at low tide. Kristen wanted to keep the conversation going smoothly, to keep Jack’s mind s
o well occupied he wouldn’t be able to formulate any other probing questions.
“Do you enjoy your work? Do you like owning a sawmill?”
He stopped walking, so she had no choice but to do the same. They had reached a bend in the stream. A cluster of large cottonwoods hung low, providing dense shade and welcome coolness.
“Very much, although I don’t wonder if I’m biased because I’ve never done anything else. I’ve nothing to compare what I do there against what I could do elsewhere.” He pondered a moment more, and then added, “But since I’m content, I suppose it doesn’t matter that I’ve only attempted one profession. The roundabout answer is yes, I do enjoy what I do. Sorry it took so long to get to the point.” His quiet laughter blended flawlessly with the sound of the burbling creek water.
“You got to the point, and that’s all that matters.”
She fanned her face with one hand while she looked around for a place to rest. Another log, longer and wider than the one where they had left their hats, was just a few feet away. With a nod in its direction, Kristen asked, “Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I could use some time off my toes, too.”
They sat on the log in companionable silence for a few minutes. It felt like they were the only two people in the universe and Kristen loved the thought. At that moment, she didn’t need—or want—anything more than what she had beside her.
Just when she thought she might burst out in unrestrained laughter from the sheer joy of the moment, Jack turned to face her. He stuck a hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small paper-wrapped bundle. He held it out to her.
“I saw these and thought you might like them.”
Kristen hesitated. Back home, accepting a gift from a gentleman implied some social obligation. But here, where the world was wild and bundles were tied with butcher’s string? Was it acceptable to take a gift from a man without having first agreed on their degree of entanglement?
She didn’t care. Jack, and his gift, was the best parts of her life since she had left home. Whether or not being friendly with him, or taking his token, was socially acceptable or not wasn’t worth the effort to consider.
Sterling's Way (Lawmen & Outlaws) Page 11