Courting Kate

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Courting Kate Page 23

by Rich, Mary Lou

Her gaze drifted downward to where his flat middle disappeared into his pants, paused a moment. Blushing at her wanton thoughts, she forced them away. His long legs dangled over the end of the bed. Strong, capable of covering great distance. For a man his size, he moved with the grace of a cat.

  He moaned, drawing her attention back to his face.

  She kissed him, then tasted his lips with her tongue. Nice. Slightly peachy. Intrigued, she tasted him again. Something she’d never wanted to do when he was scowling.

  Now in sleep, he smiled.

  What was he dreaming about, she wondered. The mountain? The wildflowers in the meadow? Or was he dreaming about her? Hoping the latter might be the case, she closed her eyes and nestled against him.

  * * *

  Tanner forced himself to stay still, even though the arm stretched unnaturally over his head tingled with lack of circulation. Those kisses of hers had almost been his undoing. The little minx. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and kiss her back.

  As long as he was awake, she pretended not to have much use for him. But when she thought he didn’t know what she was doing... A smile tugged at his mouth. Even though his eyes had been shut, he’d felt her gaze even when she hadn’t touched him. He’d gritted his teeth and fought his body’s natural response. Who would have thought she would do such things? She’d been curious as a cat.

  Her soft, even breathing told Tanner she had fallen asleep. He smiled and pulled her even closer, content for the first time in weeks. It had taken some playacting on his part, but he had her where he wanted her.

  He imagined going to bed with her each night, making love by the firelight. Curling his body around hers, shielding her from the cold. Then waking with her in his arms and making love by the dawn’s earliest light.

  Envisioning that joining, his body hardened against hers. He inched away, afraid she would awaken. He contented himself with feeling her softness, her sweetness, inhaling her cinnamon scent. If they lived to be one hundred, he might never get enough of her. If he had his way they’d never get out of bed.

  Her dress gaped enticingly where she’d lost her buttons. He undid one more and carefully slid his hand inside. He cupped her breast, and felt it swell to fill his hand. He could see her pregnant, her body swollen with his babe. That same babe suckling at her breast. She’d make a wonderful mother—if he could ever convince her to be his wife.

  Cursing himself for the time he had wasted, he kissed her forehead and brushed a damp curl from her cheek.

  He guiltily thought of his deception. She’d despise him if she ever found out.

  He had slept like that once. It was after his pa had died. He’d spent weeks working from dawn to dusk with hardly any rest. He’d avoided sleep, because with it came the reliving of the nightmare, and the part he’d played in his father’s death.

  When he finally had collapsed, he’d slept for two days and nights, oblivious to everything around him. He’d scared his brothers to death, but the doctor had assured them he would be fine when he awakened. And he was.

  With Kate cuddled next to him, he’d never be too sick or tired to know she was there. In fact, he never felt more alive in his life.

  If she found him in her bed come daylight, she’d probably have a conniption fit. But it would be worth it.

  He nuzzled her cheek.

  She sighed, murmuring his name.

  She must be dreaming about him. He grinned. She’d told him it would be three weeks before she’d even go anywhere with him.

  He had accomplished much more than he had ever hoped for and it had only taken him one day.

  He snagged a quilt from the end of the bed and pulled it over them. Lost in oblivion, she didn’t even know it.

  He closed his eyes and hugged her close.

  Now that he had her where he wanted her, he intended to keep it that way.

  Chapter 22

  A noise reached into Kate’s dreams and tugged at her consciousness. She ignored it and snuggled closer to the warmth at her side. She’d been dreaming about Tanner, dreaming they were married and she was sharing his bed. She nuzzled her pillow.

  It let out a snore.

  She blinked. Then blinked again, unable to believe what she was seeing.

  It wasn’t a dream. Tanner was here. In her bed. Snoring in her ear. And his hand... She jerked it from inside her dress.

  He snorted, then exhaled on a long whistling sigh.

  “Ka-ate? Kate, are you there, dear?” a feminine voice called from nearby.

  “She’s probably in the back somewhere. Kath-le-een,” another woman sang out.

  Oh, no! Nellie McGruder—and Hester Hamilton! The worst gossips and busybodies in Jacksonville. The pair were also organizers of the sewing circle at the church.

  Her heart hammering against her ribcage, Kate stared at Tanner. She thought she’d locked her door, but apparently she hadn’t. And now it was too late, the women were here, inside her shop.

  Maybe she could pretend she was asleep. Maybe they would go away.

  Mrs. Hamilton might. Nosey-body McGruder would be more likely to peek behind the curtain. If she did... Her gaze shot to the man peacefully sleeping by her side.

  She couldn’t let them find Tanner here—in her bed. Kate twisted, yanking frantically at her dress to remove it from under his legs. She heard the fabric tear, but didn’t have time to worry about it. And at least she was free.

  She jumped from the bed and slid her feet into her slippers, wondering how they came to be off her feet. She tried to fasten her dress. Most of the buttons were missing. She did up the ones that were left, thinking maybe she could cover it with her apron. She scanned the bedroom. Drat! She must have lost it in the kitchen.

  Tanner moaned, patted the bed beside him, then sleepily opened his eyes.

  Why did he pick now to wake up? She shot a glance toward the curtain, expecting to see the women any moment.

  Maybe she could hide him.

  Not likely, with his feet sticking over the end of the bed. She tugged at his legs, then bent his knees. So far, so good. She covered him with the quilt.

  “Wha... What?” he mumbled. He raised his head. “Kate?”

  “Shh!” She shoved his face into the pillow. “Go back to sleep.” She yanked the covers up over his head and prayed he’d keep quiet.

  “Kate?” Mrs. McGruder called from near the other side of the partition.

  Knowing she dare not delay any longer, Kate pushed her hair out of her eyes and slid from behind the curtain, pulling it shut behind her.

  “Mrs. McGruder. Mrs. Hamilton,” she said brightly, hoping she didn’t wake Tanner in the process. “I was asleep.”

  Mrs. McGruder, the heavier of the two women, stared at her curiously. “Asleep?”

  “In the middle of the day?” Mrs. Hamilton peered over the wire-rimmed spectacles that were perched on the end of her long, thin nose.

  Kate’s gaze shot to the window where the sun was indeed beaming brightly. “Uh,... Headache. I had a headache,” she said quickly.

  The women stared at her gaping dress. She tried to pull it together. “Mending. I was doing some mending.”

  “I thought you were sleeping,” Mrs. McGruder stated. Fluffy yawned, then Kate heard the dog’s toenails click against the floorboards as he came up behind her.

  He probably wants out, Kate decided, until she saw the women’s eyes widen.

  “What’s that he’s eating?” the fat woman said, taking a step forward so she could see better. “Why, it’s a man’s boot.”

  Kate whirled.

  The dog was chewing on a boot—what was left of it.

  “He’s cutting teeth,” Kate explained. “So I found him that old boot to chew on.”

  “Doesn’t look that old to me.” Mrs. Hamilton eyed her suspiciously. “Did you buy him a pair, dear?”

  “A pair?”

  “Look, Nellie, isn’t that another boot under the settee?”

  “Why, so it is.�


  The women stared at each other; then, their eyes bright with curiosity, they turned to Kate.

  “They were on sale,” she said, feeling herself sinking deeper by the minute.

  “Hey, darlin’, you got any coffee?”

  Kate closed her eyes and muttered a curse.

  Both of her callers uttered shocked gasps. They stared at the back of her shop.

  Afraid of what she might see, but unable to stop herself from looking, Kate whirled.

  As if on cue, the curtain slid back. Barefooted, his hair tousled, his shirt open and shirttail trailing over his pants, Tanner sleepily scratched his bare middle and yawned.

  “Oh, my.” Mrs. McGruder covered her mouth with her hand and let out a high-pitched giggle.

  “Oh, no!” Kate cried. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare. Her entire body flushed crimson.

  Not having the good grace to be embarrassed, Tanner rubbed his eyes and stared back at them. “Mornin’, Nellie. Hester.” He smiled at Kate. “Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t know we had company.”

  “Tanner. Tanner Blaine!” Her eyes bright as a bird’s, Mrs. Hamilton looked at Tanner’s bare feet, then at the boots. Arching a brow, she peered at Kate. “On sale indeed. Looks like we might have interrupted something.”

  “Yes, it appears we might,” Mrs. McGruder said, a delighted smile dimpling her chubby cheeks.

  “Tanner wasn’t feeling well, so I let him lie down,” Kate tried to explain.

  “And you were taking a nap, too. How cozy.”

  “No, dear, she was mending, remember?”

  “She said she was asleep,” Mrs. McGruder snapped.

  “And sewing.”

  They looked at Kate’s missing buttons and the ripped dress dragging the floor behind her. Then they eyed Tanner, who looked as smug as a cat that had been into the cream.

  Kate shoved her hair out of her eyes and glared at him. He was enjoying this!

  “This isn’t what it looks like, ladies,” Tanner said, coming up behind Kate and wrapping his arms around her.

  Kate stiffened. Leave it to him to make things worse—if that was possible. She tried to wriggle free.

  He squeezed her tighter. “Miss Deveraux has just accepted my proposal of marriage.”

  “What proposal?” Kate asked, before she could stop herself. “Did you forget already, darlin’? His eyes twinkling like quicksilver, he winked. “You promised to be my wife.” He nuzzled her temple.

  She twisted her head to face him. “I did no—”

  His mouth came down on hers.

  “Oh, my. How romantic,” Mrs. McGruder said with a sigh. “Hester, I think we’d better leave and let these two young people get back to whatever they were doing.”

  The tall, skinny woman glanced toward the bedroom, then eyed them with disapproval. “Most people have the decency to wait until after the wedding.”

  Still captured in his embrace, with his lips locked on hers, Kate fought to have her say. “Nmmm,” was all she could manage. Tanner waited until the two women had left the shop before he set her free.

  Trembling with fury, she backed away. “How could you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re so mad for.” He gave her a playful swat, then went to stoke up the cookstove, adding a few chunks of wood. “I just saved your reputation.”

  “You just ruined my reputation, you mean. Coming out of there like that...” She waved a hand toward him. “Heaven only knows what they thought.”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “Got any coffee?” He peered under her cabinet.

  “Nothing happened,” she insisted.

  “No, nothing happened.” He yawned again and stretched his arms over his head. “Now, about that coffee?”

  “Coffee! How can you think of coffee at a time like this?”

  “I thought it might help me wake up.”

  “It’s right in front of you.” She whirled toward the stove and picked up the blue enameled pot. She shoved it into his hands. “Here’s your coffee. Now get out.”

  “It’s still cold,” he complained, feeling the side of the pot.

  “You want me to heat it?” she asked between gritted teeth.

  He smiled. “That would be real nice.” He looked around the room. “Do you know what happened to my socks?”

  She slammed the coffeepot down on the stove. “How should I know? It didn’t look like you were wearing any when I pulled off your boots.”

  “I was wondering how I came to be barefooted.” He pointed to his shirt front. “You did this, too?”

  “You needn’t look so pleased. I was checking to see if you were dead.”

  “Do you always put dead men in your bed?”

  “You weren’t dead.”

  “Well, at least that’s one thing we agree on.” He sauntered toward her. “Darlin’, I’m very much alive.”

  “You won’t be if you come any closer,” she warned, wrapping her fingers around the handle of a large cast-iron skillet.

  “Now, is that any way to talk to your intended, darlin’?”

  “Stop calling me ‘darlin’.’ And you aren’t my intended. You aren’t my anything.”

  “That isn’t what the ladies think.” He wondered how far he could bait her before she threw the frying pan. Since the thing weighed almost half as much as she did, he decided he was safe. “They think we already celebrated the honeymoon.”

  “You...” She tried to hoist the skillet—and dropped it on the floor.

  “Be a shame to disappoint them.” He moved closer.

  She retreated until her back was against the wall. “Don’t!”

  “What’s the matter, honey?”

  She shoved at him. “You’re what’s the matter. You get up out of my bed and come in here looking like—like that. Why couldn’t you stay under the covers? Why didn’t you go back to sleep?”

  “I wasn’t sleepy. Besides, I missed you,” he said, telling her that he knew she had been sharing the bed with him. “How did I get in your bed, anyhow?” he asked, pretending innocence.

  She glared at him, but didn’t answer.

  “Since I don’t remember getting there on my own, I guess you must have put me there.”

  “I did—not.” She frowned. “Not on purpose.”

  “Then how did I get there?” he asked, stroking the base of her throat with his thumb.

  “You were asleep. And...” She slapped at his hand. “Quit that. I can’t think.”

  Placing one arm on either side of her, he nuzzled her cheek, then nibbled at her ear. “Go on.”

  “I, uh,...” She shook her head. “What was I trying to say?”

  He chuckled.

  “Stop. How do you expect me to concentrate with you doing that?” She twisted her head away from his tongue, which only gave him more access to her neck.

  He kissed her earlobe, and the soft spot where the nape met her shoulder, then trailed his tongue down to the base of her throat and tasted the flutter of her pulse. “Hmm, so sweet.” He kissed the sensitive hollow, then deftly undid the remaining buttons.

  “Tanner, stop it right... Oh.”

  He covered her mouth with his, swallowing any protest she might have made. His roaming hand slid inside her chemise and curved around her swelling breast. His own heat rising, he felt the rosy-crested tip thrust against his palm.

  She moaned and arched against him.

  Just when things were really beginning to get interesting, an annoying drumming sound caught his attention. “Now what?” He raised his head and listened.

  Somebody was pounding on Kate’s door.

  The front curtains were drawn so the visitor couldn’t see inside, but the latch wasn’t locked. Whoever it was could enter at any time.

  “Honey?” He looked down at Kate, who appeared about to swoon. Her lips were pink and swollen, her eyes hidden by long, silky lashes. Her creamy skin was reddened by his kisses. Not counting the fact that she was half undressed. He had caused
her enough problems. He couldn’t let anybody else see her like that.

  He scooped her into his arms and strode across the floor. He shoved the partition aside and lay her on the bed. Her glossy hair streamed back over the pillow. Wishing whoever was at the door would give up and go away, he gazed at her for a moment.

  Torn between wanting to join her and a desire to protect her, he swallowed and covered her with the quilt. Then he left the bedroom, pulling the curtain shut behind him.

  The coffeepot steamed, hissed, then boiled over, filling the air with an acrid stench.

  He snatched the kettle from the fire, burning his hand in the process.

  The pounding came again, insistent, demanding, telling him that whoever was outside wasn’t about to go away. “Kate, are you in there?” a gruff voice called.

  Tanner couldn’t answer the door barefooted and half dressed. Determined not to shame Kate more than he already had, he snagged one boot, then took the other one away from the dog. Fluffy seemed content for the moment with the chunk he’d torn off.

  Tanner stuffed his feet inside the boots, then hastily buttoned his shirt and stuffed his tails into his pants. Running a hand through his hair to smooth it, he went to answer the door. Bob Rutledge, the foreman of the Lucky Strike mine, stood on the other side.

  “Tanner Blaine! What are you doing here?” The ruddy-faced man shifted to one side and tried to peer into the room.

  Tanner moved with him, blocking his view. “What do you want?”

  “Where’s Miss Deveraux?” the man demanded angrily. “We were supposed to have supper this evening.”

  Tanner took note of the man’s broadcloth suit, his boiled shirt and string tie. “Yeah, I wondered why you were so duded up,” he said, feeling scruffy as a stray dog by comparison. The only thing that soothed his ego was the fact that he was inside the house with Kate, while the miner was left outside, standing on the porch.

  “My fiancée is indisposed,” Tanner answered smugly.

  “Your fiancée?” Rutledge’s eyes narrowed. “Since when?”

  “It became official earlier today.”

  “I don’t believe it.” The man stepped up to the threshold as if to force his entry. “She would have said something.”

  Tanner didn’t move.

 

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