“Yes, but you didn’t know whether or not I even liked roast beef.” When he looked angry, she smoothed over that patch. “But I do and this is quite well prepared.”
He nodded and forked in another bite.
“I’ve read the most interesting book this week, Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. The story fascinated me. What a gallant man Sydney Carlton was to give his life so the woman he loved could be with the man she loved. Have you read the book?”
He set his fork on his plate. Leaning back in his chair, he regarded her with a frown. “You read novels?”
“Don’t appear so surprised. I read as much as possible before I came here. It’s true we didn’t have access to new volumes during the war, plus my family’s books were all destroyed in a fire. Lydia’s library is well-stocked. Fortunately, she’s encouraged us to broaden our minds.”
“Nonsense. Women don’t need to broaden their minds with silly stories. Reading books only gives them impractical ideas about life.”
“Are you saying you never read novels?”
He stabbed his green beans as if they’d offended him. “Certainly not. I read literature that pertains to banking and world affairs. Nothing frivolous.”
“But what do you do to relax?”
“Relax? Why socializing, perusing the newspaper.”
She thought he almost said that this evening was supposed to have been relaxing. For her, it had been eye-opening. Not wishing to burn her bridges, she forced herself to smile.
“I enjoy those two things also. Learning Tarnation has a newspaper was a pleasant surprise.”
He blotted his mouth with his napkin. “Grant Pettigrew does very well for us. He receives wires from Fort Worth and St. Louis weekly.”
She wondered how often food caught in Bart’s mustache. “That must be expensive, but I’m glad he has an immediate source of news.”
They finished their meal and he snapped his fingers to summon Martha with their bill. When he’d paid, he stood and helped her with her chair as he’d done when they were seated. She sighed and hoped she had sufficiently soothed his ego.
They strolled back toward Lydia’s. Cassandra couldn’t help but feel relief the tense meal was over.
“I can’t get over what a beautiful star-filled sky you have here. In Richmond, we don’t see half as many.”
“We didn’t in Philadelphia either. With a few exceptions, the clear air here allows for beautiful skies whether daytime or night.”
“Oh? What are the exceptions?”
“Rarely, we have dust storms. But, we have snowstorms, thunderstorms, and tornados. None of those is frequent, so please don’t concern yourself.”
“I came here to stay and plan to take the good with the bad.”
“Good, glad to hear that.” He brushed at his mustache with his free hand.
They reached Lydia’s and he guided her up the porch steps. At the door, he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her. The mustache was soft instead of bristly as she had expected. But, his kiss did not warm or excite her.
Disappointed, she stepped away. “Thank you for a nice evening.”
“Cassandra, I want to be clear. I want a wife and heirs. In exchange, my wife will have control of my home and enough money to purchase whatever she desires. I hope you’ll give that consideration. Good night.”
Cassandra hurried inside and to her room. She had an urge to wipe her mouth.
However unemotionally he did so, Bart offered everything she wanted. Surely she could entertain his kisses and intimacy with him to achieve her goal. The thought of poor Trenton forced to work in the stables and sleep on a cot in the tack room seldom left her mind. She simply had to marry well enough that she could bring her brother to live with her.
Angeline lay on the bed waiting for her. “Well, how was the meal.”
Cassandra plopped onto the chair. “The food was delicious, but we almost had words.”
“Over what?”
She sighed heavily. “First, he ordered for me without consulting me. Next, he told me women shouldn’t read because doing so puts nonsensical and unrealistic ideas in their heads.”
Her roommate’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, Cassandra, that should be a warning to you. Did he kiss you?”
She folded her hands in her lap. “Yes, at the door.”
Angeline leaned forward. “What was it like? Did his mustache tickle or prick?”
“When you were a girl, did you practice kissing on the back of your hand?”
Angeline giggled. “I guess all girls do. Also on the mirror and the door.”
She stared at the corner of the room as she recalled her impressions. “The hair of his mustached was soft, but his kiss was sort of like kissing the door.”
Her roommate giggled.
Cassandra met Angeline’s gaze. “Then he told me he wants a wife and heir in exchange for his wife having control of his home and all the money she required. He sounded so… I guess emotionally detached are the right words, as if he were striking a business contract.”
“He wants to buy you, make no mistake. Cassandra, profit from my situation. Stay away from a man like him. While the banker won’t rape and then abandon you, he’s not the kind of man you need.”
“I don’t believe he would ever force himself on me. I admit he doesn’t set my pulse pounding, but he offers all that I set out to find.”
“Except the most important thing of all, love.”
She stood and unfastened her top and skirt. After putting them away, she unfastened her petticoat. “I’m sure I’ll grow very fond of him through the years. I’ll have children and the town’s women and the house to occupy my time.”
“You’re crazy if you trust in that delusion. I know how my mother felt about my father. Believe me, she did not grow fonder of him over the years. If anything, she avoided him more with each passing day.”
Sliding her nightgown over her head, Cassandra crawled between the sheets. “I’m tired of trying to decide. I’m going to sleep if I can.”
“All right. Goodnight.”
But, Cassandra couldn’t sleep no matter what position she chose.
Finally, Angeline said, “Either be still or one of us has to leave this bed—and I don’t believe the one going will be me.”
“Sorry. I’ll be still now.” But she couldn’t sleep. She lay looking out the window until the first sign of dawn’s light crept over the windowsill.
Chapter Five
At breakfast Thursday morning, Cassandra sat at the table as the girls all said, “Surprise, happy birthday,” at the same time.
Cassandra blushed with happiness. “Oh, Lydia, I’d forgotten you asked our birthdays. How nice of everyone to offer greetings.”
Lydia regarded her with a fond smile. “There’s more. We’re having a birthday party this evening. Most of the men are coming and Sophie, of course.”
“A party for me? I haven’t had one since… well, in a very long time.” She paused as she recalled the approaching weekend. “But, there’s the ball tomorrow.”
Lydia waved away her concern. “Nevertheless, we’re having a birthday party tonight. Tomorrow, the town will be invited. Not tonight. Now, eat up, ladies. We have to make the place look festive.”
The day flew by. Cassandra pressed her sky-blue Swiss muslin dress with an overskirt and heart-shaped neck. Ruching at the sleeve flounces and around the neck was from the same fabric.
Angeline wore the green dress Cassandra had helped her alter. The old skirt and coordinating new top with expanding sides had not been difficult to sew. “I’m so pleased you helped me with this. It’s very comfortable.”
“Well, I suppose we should go down. I’m a bundle of jitters.”
Angeline gave her a friendly nudge. “As well you should be with two beaus attending tonight when some of us have none.”
They descended the stairs as guests arrived. Bart showed up with a small box tied with ribbon. Behind him was Sam, carrying a bouquet o
f wildflowers. Oh, dear. She hoped she got through the evening without hurting anyone’s feelings or making anyone angry.
Bart approached her with a bow. “Happy birthday, Cassandra. I hope you find this to your approval.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
She wished he hadn’t, but she accepted the box. “Thank you, I’m sure I will.” She hoped she would like his gift, but not too much.
She untied the ribbon and opened the lid. Inside was a beautiful lapel watch. “How lovely, Bart.”
Turning to Angeline, she asked, “Would you help me pin this on my dress?”
“Certainly.” Angeline met her gaze with disapproval but assisted in getting the watch straight. She whispered, “Didn’t I say he wants to buy you?”
Samuel stepped forward and presented her with orange and deep blue wildflowers tied with a bandana. “When I saw these bluebonnets, they reminded me of your beautiful eyes. The Indian paintbrush reminds me of that dress you wore when you arrived.”
She was pleased he remembered the color of her dress, which was similar to the flowers he’d called paintbrush. “Thank you, Sam. The bluebonnets smell heavenly.”
He leaned down and kissed her lips instead of her cheek. In spite of the surprise, his touch curled her toes. The sound of giggles and huzzahs from the men brought her to her senses and she stepped away. Red colored Bart’s face and his mood appeared thunderous but he remained silent.
Mrs. Murphy hurried forward with a vase of water. “Samuel Drummond, you know wildflowers won’t keep long.”
Cassandra hastened to add, “But, they’re a treat while they do.” Inhaling again, she tried to decide between love and romance or money and prestige. She was still torn. Make up your mind, this can’t continue.
She accepted gifts from the girls including a white linen handkerchief from Rachel, blue ribbon for her hair from Lorraine, a red knitted scarf from Prudence, and pink knitted foot warmers for winter sleeping from Ophelia. Angeline gave her an embroidered bluebird on a branch. The linen square was pressed and wrapped around cardboard to hang on the wall. Josephine’s gift was the lace Cassandra had admired at the store. Lydia gave her a pair of earrings that went well with the brooch she always wore at her throat.
Fighting to keep from crying with happiness, she hugged each of her new friends. “You’re the kindest friends I’ve ever had. Thank you so much.”
***
Sam had seen the watch at the mercantile and he’d almost chosen the thing. He’d decided against doing so because he didn’t want to buy Cassie’s love. If her kiss was a way to judge, he was making progress.
That Tucker had everything Cassie wanted except a soul. If he was enthusiastic about anything but his bank and his possessions, Sam hadn’t noticed. That rotter sure had his eye on Sam’s Cassie.
At least, he hoped she was his. Danged if he’d give her up without a fight. Cassie deserved better than being another one of the banker’s acquisitions. She needed Sam Drummond and he didn’t have much time to make her see that truth.
***
The next morning at breakfast, Prudence said, “That cowboy Samuel Drummond is so handsome. I might set my sights on him.”
After breakfast, Cassandra took advantage a few minutes alone with Prudence. “Sam is mine so just leave him alone.”
Prudence huffed. “You can’t have both the cowboy and the banker. Make up your mind or you’ll lose both.”
Cassandra felt tears gather in her eyes. “You’re right. Forget I mentioned anything.”
Prudence hugged her shoulders. “I was just trying to make you decide. I know you’re struggling. But they are both desirable as husbands. You owe it to them to decide so the loser can court one of us.”
Lydia motioned to Cassandra. “We’re running low on a couple of supplies. Do you mind delivering a list to Michael or Josephine? Tell them to send it by Adam when they see him.”
“I’ll stop by and tell Adam on the way back.” She grabbed her parasol and hurried toward the mercantile.
This was another glorious spring day. Cassandra admired the deep blue sky and the green hills. With such magnificent weather, she didn’t even mind the dusty streets.
As she passed the Golden Eagle Saloon, a drunk staggered into her.
“Well, lookee here, now ain’t you a purty thing?” He grabbed her left arm that held her parasol. “How about a big old kiss?”
She delivered a quick right and hit the drunk on the nose then kneed him in the groin. When the drunk was writhing on the ground, she walked off in a huff. Spotting Sam leaning against a building grinning, she stopped in front of him.
Still indignant, she put her fists on her hips. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Aw, Cassie sweetheart, I was hurrying to your aid, but you didn’t need my help. I was just thinking what a great woman you are. Any man would be proud to call you his girl.”
She glanced back at the drunk, who appeared to have passed out, and then back at Sam. “Fortunately, my father taught me to defend myself. Those moves have come in handy a time or two.”
He took her hands in his. “You’re the woman I want for my own, Cassie.”
She simply stared up into his soft brown eyes.
“What have we here? Couldn’t you aid a lady in distress, Drummond?”
Cassandra pulled her hands from Sam’s and faced Bart. “Did I look as if I needed his help?”
Bart brushed a finger against his mustache. “I was coming to your aid, but you bested that man. No doubt his drinking made him an easy target.”
She was tempted to show the sanctimonious banker how easy a victim a sober man could be. No, she had to control her temper. This might be the man she decided to marry.
“Well, gentlemen, I have an errand to run for Lydia. Please excuse me.”
Sam tipped his western hat. “Certainly, Cassie sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight at Lydia’s dance. Don’t forget to save some dances for me.”
Cassandra smiled and went toward the mercantile.
Samuel watched the becoming sway of her hips as she strode down the block.
Bart crossed his arms and glared. “You might as well give up, Drummond. Cassandra is mine.”
“If I believed you, I might be jealous.” He turned and walked toward the hotel.
Now he wondered if he should have given her the watch. Tucker was a handsome man and lived in town where Sam reckoned a woman would prefer. The banker flashed his money as if he were trying to buy friends.
Sam prayed the man couldn’t buy Cassie.
That evening, Sam noticed each of the prospective brides had men flocking around them. There were three or four times the number of bachelors as young women. Looked as if Miss Nailor and Michael Buchanan had already become a couple.
Dang, he’d better get busy and step up the heat courting his girl. Tucker was making moves too. No sooner had Sam danced her to a quiet corner than the banker showed up.
Eventually, he spotted Tucker dancing with Ophelia. Sam guided Cassie onto the upstairs balcony. They weren’t alone, but the other couple was at the balcony’s opposite end.
“Cassie sweetheart, I can’t get enough of you in my arms. You’ve charmed your way into my heart. Don’t be swayed by Tucker’s wealth. You and I were meant for one another.”
She ducked her head. “I haven’t quite made up my mind, Sam. I enjoy being with you, but Bart is nice too.”
He pulled her into his embrace. “Does his kiss make you feel like mine?” He claimed her lips, gently at first but then he lost control and pressed firmly. He didn’t want to frighten her, so he broke the kiss.
When she laid her head on his chest, her breathing was as heightened as his. “Sam, could you just hold me for a few minutes? I can’t think when you kiss me.”
Caressing her back, he was heartened. “That sounds like a good thing. Can I kiss you again?”
She tiptoed to meet his lips. He swept his tongue along the seam of her lips and she opened her mouth for him. At firs
t he thought she was going to pull away, but she met his tongue with hers. Her arms circled him and she clung.
When they separated, her eyes were wide. “I never dreamed a kiss could be like that.”
He caressed her face. “You weren’t supposed to. That’s only for us, sweetheart, because we belong together.”
Another couple came out and stood near them.
Cassandra met his gaze. “I think we should go in now. We’ve been here quite a while.”
He leaned near her ear. “Not nearly long enough for me.” But he guided her back into the ballroom.
“Doesn’t your boss mind you being in town so much?”
“Naw, he knows I want to marry. I’m a hard worker so I’ve taken time off to court you. Have to ride home tonight but I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
Bart weaved his way through the dancers. “I wondered where you two got off to, but here you are. Shall we dance, Cassandra?”
With a glance his way, she allowed the banker to twirl her onto the floor. As she did, Sam believed longing filled Cassie’s glances at him. Well, well, he’d just stick around a while longer and see what chances the evening presented.
***
Bart managed to turn her so she couldn’t see Sam any longer. She knew the action was a deliberate maneuver. If the banker were genuinely interested in her, she couldn’t blame him for keeping her and Sam apart.
She still reeled from Sam’s kiss. Did everyone kiss that way? She had so little experience with men. She only walked out with a couple of men before her family died. After that, she had been too busy at the Heathington’s to think of romance.
Shivering, she remembered Mr. Heathington’s leers and advances. She’d had to leave and get as far away as possible. Trenton had sent her one letter assuring her he hadn’t suffered because she’d left. She prayed her brother told her the truth.
Cassandra lost count of the time. Her feet and legs hurt. Even though she loved dancing, she had become the center of a tug of war between Sam and Bart.
When the dance ended and the ballroom tidied, she was free to go to her room and she was happy to do so. At least tomorrow would be peaceful and her feet could recover.
Cassandra (Bride Brigade Book 3) Page 4