“Come Valeria, I’ll see you home.”
Valeria clutched his arm and gazed up at him. “Be on time for your party.”
He offered his elbow and ushered her out the door. For some unexplained reason, all the energy and titillating excitement left the room with JP.
Rupert leaned toward Elizabeth, his voice smooth and filled with satisfaction. “My sister and JP make a handsome couple, don’t you think?”
Elizabeth longed to slap Rupert silly for his chance remark, a perfectly innocent, but true statement. She loathed the very idea of JP paying heed to another woman. Not only lavishing attention on prissy Valeria Landow, but flirting and admiring her as well. Jealousy clenched Elizabeth’s stomach. This would never do, but how could she stop her reactions to his every move?
Maybe she should encourage Rupert and see where the association might lead. After all, rich, handsome, overly polite, charming, a leading citizen should be all a girl wished for. Why not allow things to develop? Go where it may? If she could get JP out of her every thought, Rupert might have a chance.
Chapter 11
Scarcely a week later, a lovely bouquet of pink roses arrived for Elizabeth. Rupert’s charming note accompanying the blooms brought a smile to her lips. Flowery, overstated, just the sort of thing she expected from Rupert.
Dearest Elizabeth,
Thank you for the pleasure of your company the other evening. These roses remind me of you, so lovely, so sweet. I compared the soft, velvet petals to your loveliness. Next to you, the flowers dim, rough and faded. I apologize if I’m too forward, but say you’ll allow me to escort you on another outing. I’ll be waiting for your acceptance to dine with me again. If I am not being too bold, may I suggest tomorrow evening?
Devotedly Yours,
Rupert Landow
Elizabeth read the message again before admitting his flattery got to her. Folding the note, she tucked it into her satchel. After his expressed adoration, she looked at him in a kinder light. How could she not? After all, he was an eligible man, handsome, charming, and wealthy. Before she could change her mind, she penned a note of acceptance and sent it to his office in the bank.
All through the next day, she vacillated between calling the evening engagement off and looking forward to his company. His glances beckoned, occasionally close to giving offence, daring a woman to take a chance on him. His charming, flattery-filled speech appealed to her vanity. Not that she ever admitted to such a flaw.
That evening, she dressed with all speed, splashed a little lily of the valley perfume on her wrists, grabbed her wrap and descended the stairs. Not many minutes passed before she heard the whoosh of wheels halting outside the house. Elizabeth glanced out the window in time to observe Rupert disembark from his new surrey. She couldn’t wait to ride in his buggy again.
He stepped up on the porch, his limp more pronounced than she remembered. His graceless gait did not detract from his appearance. The perfection in his clothing accented his sharp, compelling features, attractive, filled with a debonair expression.
She hurried into the parlor, casual, as if patiently waiting for his arrival, nothing anxious about that. When his knock sounded, she leisurely entered the hall.
Opening the door wide, she smiled at him. “Come in, Rupert. I’ll get my wrap and be right with you.”
He returned her smile. “You look charming.”
She left him standing in the entry to retrieve her cloak, but before she could shrug into the cape, Rupert took the wrap from her and gently draped it over her shoulders.
He gave her upper arms a slight squeeze. “Shall we go?”
She nodded and led the way out, not pausing until she reached the steps of his carriage. He assisted her into the surrey. Evaluating the effect of his touch, she noted her pulse rate remained steady with a slight tingle. Excellent, she wanted to stay in control, slow, easy, allowing the acquaintance to strengthen or falter of its own accord. No more allowing her heart free rein over her head. She swallowed nervously, hoping for the best.
The buggy tilted when he climbed aboard, bringing the fragrance of his cologne with him, nice but a trifle strong sitting this close to him. Gathering her skirts, she moved over giving him more room to maneuver. She snuggled deeper into her wrap to shelter from the chilled air blowing inside with the forward motion of the horse. Thankfully, the short trip to the Silver Slipper Inn went by in a flash since small talk seemed beyond her at the moment. Pulling the surrey to a halt in front of the inn, he helped her disembark.
After tying his horse, Rupert held the door for her. The wooden floorboards gave way with a tiny squeak in protest when she stepped into the inn. The chatter of conversation washed into the entrance overlaid by heavy boots tromping up the stairs to the second level.
More at ease when entering the dining room, she allowed him to escort her to a small table in the slightly dim corner. He pulled out her chair for her before taking the one opposite. From the sconces along the wall, flickering candlelight shadowed his features adding an air of mystery to his demeanor.
The waitress bustled over and placed two menus on the table. “I’ll give you a minute.”
While they perused the menu, the clink of china, along with the delicious aroma of roasting meat, garlic, onions, and savory spices, filled the room, familiar and welcoming. Laughter bounced against the tin ceiling tiles echoing the sound back into the room.
The waitress arrived with an expectant look on her face. “You folks ready?”
Rupert ordered for them and leaned back in his chair with a lazy smile on his lips. “Tell me about yourself. What was your life before you arrived in Bittersweep?”
She swallowed, averting her gaze. “My story isn’t all that interesting.” She drew a deep breath and plunged into her history. “My mother died when I was young. I now have one father, one stepmother, and two siblings.” She met his gaze and added, “One ex-fiancé too.”
He held a fork in his hand, sliding his fingers up and down the handle. “Why ex?”
The muscles tightened at the base of her skull while she allowed a breath to escape. “He decided in favor of a wealthy widow.” Thankfully, the pain had lightened with the passage of time and her new life. She curled one corner of her mouth. “Since I didn’t marry at a reasonable age, I moved out and left with my stepmother’s blessing. After all, I’m twenty.” She managed a slightly hesitant smile. “What about you?”
Rupert examined the design on the handle of the fork in his hand for a moment before answering, his tone somewhat vague. “Like you, my mother died. I ended up on my grandparents’ doorstep back East, along with my sister.”
“What happened to your father?”
He shrugged. “Who knows?”
Interested in his story, she widened her eyes. “Is that where you met JP?”
The flicking candlelight softened the sharpness of his features, hiding his thoughts. “Yes, at school. He talked about Bittersweep all the time. He loved this place.”
“So you came to discover what was so wonderful about Bittersweep? This is a long ways away from back East. Leaving memories behind?”
“You could say that.”
The waitress arrived at the table with a pitcher of sweet tea, and a platter of roasted chicken with mashed potatoes on the side. A bowl of peas followed. She smiled at Rupert before turning to Elizabeth. “Eat up. It’s good. I had a bite earlier.” She grinned again and departed.
After unfurling her napkin and placing it in her lap, Elizabeth served her plate. Curiosity got the best of her. “Memories. I understand that. You left your family back East. Did you leave a girl behind as well?”
He sawed off a portion of chicken, and held his fork to his mouth. “I left the past behind and everything that went with it.”
“Do you ever visit you
r grandparents?”
He chewed the chicken before answering in a disparaging voice, “I never visit my grandfather anymore.”
“Your grandfather only? Why?”
“I lost my grandmother as well.” He ate his meal, distracted as if his mind grappled with the past. “Like you, my grandfather remarried after a decent interval.” He grimaced and stared down at the table. “Grandpa financed my first attempt at banking. I did quite well, but I needed added capital for a venture I planned. By that time, Grandpa married Janine. Step-grandma had no use for me or for investing more money in any of my endeavors. She sent me on my way the minute grandfather stopped objecting.” With a bitter ring in his voice, he added, “She doesn’t allow me to visit him, or get close to our inheritance.”
Did Rupert only consider his grandfather as a means to an inheritance? Was there no love between the two? Rupert certainly seemed overly bitter. After all, the money did belong to Mr. Landow—or did it?
Elizabeth hesitated, but she needed to know. “Does the money belong to your grandfather?”
“You could say that, but everything he possessed was to come to us. Janine, the little gold digger, can’t spend it fast enough. Extensive, very lavish trips around the world, expensive wardrobes plus parties, parties, parties keep her and my grandfather fully occupied.”
“That’s a shame. Family should matter.” She thought of her own family. What a disappointment. “At least you had Valeria.”
He laughed and an edge of vicious amusement echoed in the sound. “Grandfather’s wife is only six or seven years older than Valeria.” A strange glitter entered his eyes. “She is a looker, and she wants everyone to appreciate her appeal without any competition. Janine considered my sister a threat to her relationship with her new husband.” He clenched his fist on the table. “Grandfather spent too much on my sister as well. Janine couldn’t shove her hand deep enough into his pockets with Valeria around.” He leaned back in his chair, his tone sarcastic, one of mockery, ill will. “Dear step-grandma convinced grandpa Valeria tried to kill her. The last straw for grandpa came at Janine’s insistence that Valeria pushed her down the stairs and caused a miscarriage.” His jaw tightened. “My sister would never do such a thing.” He seemed lost in a tense silence for a moment. “Valeria came to me.”
“I’m so sorry things didn’t work out for you or your sister. Perhaps your grandpa will relent.”
He barked out a rough laugh. “I doubt it. Janine has Grandpa well in hand. She’s shed of both of us now.”
Elizabeth studied him briefly. He certainly had reason for hard feelings, but his bitter tone suggested more—deeper, abiding resentment against his grandfather.
Rupert folded his napkin and placed the linen on the table. “Would you care for a sweet, or coffee?”
“I couldn’t hold another bite.” She laid her napkin aside as well. “The meal was delicious. Thank you for inviting me.”
He grinned. “My delight. I hope to share such an occasion with you often.”
She pushed her plate away without a reply, uncomfortable. He had let personal information slip into the conversation. Something he seemed to regret. Too bad. He seemed more approachable now instead of someone out of reach.
He rose and pulled out her chair. “If you’re ready, we’ll be on our way.”
A raspy dryness tightened her throat. Would he request a goodnight kiss? Did she want him to try? Would she enjoy a kiss from him? The questions swirled in her head until the buggy drew to a stop at the boardinghouse. Before she could exist, he hurried around the surrey and helped her down. She had no polite choice except to allow him to escort her to the door.
He gathered her hand in his and walked her to the entrance. With a slightly amused smile he bent his head and kissed her fingers one at a time. After a final kiss on the back of her hand, he stepped away.
“Goodnight, fair lady. Slumber with pleasant dreams of me.” With that, he turned and walked away with only a small limp.
She entered the house and stood watching him out the window in the door before moving up the stairs. Pausing on the steps for a moment, she relived the kiss on her hand. Her breath caught. Yes, there had been a thrill, however slight. She raced up the remainder of the stairs and entered her room.
She threw her cape on her chair and collapsed on the bed. An interesting night all told. The fragrance of gardenias outside her open window filled the room with a gentle perfume. The smell of lemon wax lingered as well, comforting. She didn’t know if she liked Rupert, more or less, now that she knew something of his background. She certainly knew a great deal more about his family. How achingly similar to her own experiences. Understanding the resentment he exhibited toward his grandfather opened the door to the same emotions gnawing at her. Rupert’s grandfather had treated him with careless disregard. The same disinterest her father had shown her. She now considered Rupert more as a kindred spirit.
She rose and slipped out of her clothing. After donning her nightgown, she slid between the cool sheets and pulled the cover over her shoulders. Gazing at the star filled sky, she sighed. No sweet music, no burst of starlight, nothing beyond a small tingle when he kissed her hand. The spark wasn’t there. Maybe, in time, it would grow.
Chapter 12
JP glanced at the cloudless sky where the sun promised another hot day. He placed his rifle in the scabbard attached to his saddle and added a rope. With his boot in the stirrup, he sprang into the saddle, adjusted his Stetson, and urged his horse forward. Maybe he could pick up some sign of the shooter, something that had been missed. He trusted his brothers’ thoroughness, but he couldn’t help himself. His need to control his surroundings forced him to take a look see for himself. A quick trip to the Clarke place would ease his mind.
He spied Ham coming out of the house and halted his mount. Motioning for Ham to approach, he waited then said, “I’ll be out of touch for a while. I’m going after that ornery wild bull. I want him penned. He disturbed some of the children. I want them protected.”
Ham laughed and squinted up at JP. “Not thinking of a certain teacher’s safety, are you?”
JP scowled. “What did I say?”
“Yep, the children. I heard you. I only saw her from a distance, but she’s one fine-looking woman, you must admit.”
JP glared at him but refused to comment.
With a nearly straight face, Ham drawled, “Sure enough, wrangling bulls is easy. Near smooth as a glass of whiskey for you. Every soul far and wide asks for your help when there’s an angry beast that needs taming.”
JP snorted. “I don’t tame animals, cattle or otherwise. I bring ’em in so the owner can decide what’s to be done.”
Ham’s expression grew serious. “So you do. I can ride along. It hasn’t been all that long since you were winged. Two sets of eyes are better than one.”
“Come along then. I’m set on riding to the river. That bull has been known to take cover in a patch of yaupon near there.” With his horse on the move, JP said over his shoulder, “You can catch up.”
Why couldn’t Ham keep his trap shut? JP found himself thinking of the schoolteacher at the most inappropriate times. The graceful way she walked, her soft voice, her lovely face, and her interest in the children appealed to him. When he worked on the records for the ranch, he’d find her image drifting across the page. He’d tried to banish her from his thoughts so he could concentrate on other matters. Being reminded of her didn’t help with the task. Determined to put thoughts of her aside for the moment, he rode toward the Clarke place.
Nearing his destination, he heard the distant cawing of a crow mixed with the steady beat of hooves pounding the earth. Alert now to any possible danger, he drew his horse into the edge of the woods until he could view the rider.
A stranger rode down the trail, constantly gazing from side to side, s
earching ahead, his regard steady, and alert. The man had a gun holstered at his side looking more like a gunslinger from fifty years ago than today. Long, dark hair showed from beneath his Stetson. Leather leggings and a buckskin shirt covered his lean form.
When JP broke into the trail, the stranger surveyed him with near black eyes, cold, distant, and deadly. JP tipped his hat and returned the scrutiny with full measure. “Nice day, stranger.”
The man saluted JP with his fingers to the brim of his hat. “You the Honeycutt?”
JP leisurely reined his horse across the trail. “I am. You are on my land.”
“Beg pardon.” The stranger ducked his head, hiding his eyes with the brim of his hat. “I’m from the Bar S ranch. The boss sent me searching for strays. Said you wouldn’t mind.”
JP nodded, edging his horse to the side of the trail. “That’s true enough. I lost a small herd to rustlers not long ago. More than likely, his cattle suffered the same fate.”
“Probably so.” The stranger relaxed and leaned his forearms on the pommel of his saddle. “I’ll let him know about the thievery.”
JP couldn’t quite believe in the stranger’s casual attitude. He straightened his shoulders. “I’ve made a thorough search of this area since the robbery. Nothing doing. I haven’t seen hide or hair of his stock. I haven’t discovered the rustlers or my cattle either.”
“Now that’s a real shame.”
“If I run across either, I’ll let you know.”
The stranger touched his hat in farewell. “Much obliged.”
JP rode on toward the Clarke homestead. Suspicious by nature, he narrowed his eyelids and listened until he could no longer hear the stranger’s horse. He had the look of a desperado, cold and calculating. He’d bear watching.
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