She moved the food around on her plate and glanced at Kit, who had already eaten all of his. “Now, what did you call this?” she asked.
“A cowboy’s fare. Beans, sourdough biscuits, and whatever else happened to be handy.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the ‘whatever else’ that worries me.”
He leaned over and touched the fish on her plate with his fork. “That’s flounder. One of my favorites. If you eat it very carefully, the meat comes off the bone, leaving the skeletal structure intact so you end up with no bones in your mouth. I coated it with butter and lemon. It’s delicious, I assure you.”
She grimaced. “But you left its head on. I can’t eat something that’s staring at me.”
“It’s dead. It can’t see you.”
“But I can see it.” She placed her napkin over the plate and tucked it underneath to hold it in place against the wind.
Kit sighed heavily. “Ashton, you don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive.”
“I’m sorry. I know you went to a great deal of trouble to prepare the creature, but I just can’t eat him.”
He held up a finger. “Don’t touch your plate. I’ll fetch dessert.”
Watching him disappear through the doors that led from their bedroom onto the balcony, she drew her shawl more closely around her and wondered how long they truly could stay here. She’d fallen in love with the area the moment she’d set eyes on it.
Kit walked out carrying a large box. He had been sitting across from her before. He moved the chair until he was beside her and set the box on the floor. He withdrew another box and held it up.
Her eyes widened with delight. “Chocolate. You remembered.”
“I remember everything.” He removed the top from the box and took out a small confection. “There is a store in town that sells nothing but sweets.”
“Is that entire box full of chocolate?”
“Indeed it is.”
“I think I may fall in love with you.”
An emotion similar to worry flitted across his face. She laughed lightly as she realized her words had made him uncomfortable. “Don’t worry. I know I’m not supposed to love you, but I can adore you for bringing me chocolates even though you know my physician cautioned me against having them.”
“No disrespect intended, but your physician was foolish. No harm can come from chocolate.”
“I suppose you have that on goad authority?”
“Quite. My brother is the healthiest man I know, and he has a ravenous appetite for chocolate that he appeases at all hours of the day or night. Now, open your mouth.”
She did as he bade, not certain which she enjoyed mare: the taste of the chocolate or his fingers. The decadent thought made her grow warm. His fingers didn’t stay in her mouth long enough so she relished the chocolate, closing her eyes and moaning as she did so.
“Delicious,” she murmured. “I’ll take another.” She popped open her eyes and stared at her fork that now sported some white meat on it. “What’s that?”
“Your flounder.”
She darted a glance to the table and discovered that while she’d been enjoying her chocolate, Kit had moved her plate so it was now in front of him.
“I have no difficulty staring at a fish that is staring at me,” he said calmly as he moved the fork closer to her mouth. “Eat. Two bites of fish and I’ll give you another chocolate.”
She wanted to be angry at him, but for some unfathomable reason, she found him incredibly attractive sitting there holding her fork, tempting her with chocolate while trying to make her eat. “That’s bribery.”
“Indeed it is.”
She narrowed her eyes. “One bite of fish in exchange for two pieces of chocolate.”
“One fish, one chocolate.”
She opened her mouth and unenthusiastically welcomed the fish. Much to her surprise, she enjoyed the flavor. She licked her lips. “It’s not bad.”
“Liar. It’s delicious.”
“Not as good as chocolate.”
Grinning, he popped a confection into her mouth. “No, not as good as chocolate.”
*
Sitting in the chair on the balcony, Ashton stared at the night. Kit had taken the dishes downstairs, leaving the chocolate behind. She ate another piece. It tasted different when his fingers hadn’t touched it first. Not nearly as enticing.
If she were wise, she would suggest that they leave for Dallas tomorrow. Kit could easily steal her heart, if he hadn’t already. Strange how she had always resented everyone waiting on her, but adored the way he saw to her every need.
She had to constantly remind herself that he was simply being kind and held no true affection for her. Still, the memories were sweet to hold, as sweet as the chocolate she chewed.
She heard footsteps and glanced over her shoulder. Carrying a blanket, Kit stepped onto the balcony, grabbed his chair, and dragged it across the wooden floor. He draped the blanket over her before sitting beside her.
“I can’t believe there are so many ships out there,” she said quietly. “I find that one particularly intriguing.” She pointed toward a ship whose light shone brighter than any other.
“It’s the only lightship on the Gulf Coast . Others have come before it, but according to the clerk at the hotel, the Galveston Lightship Number 28 only just arrived in Galveston this past January.”
“What’s its purpose?” she asked.
“The same as a lighthouse. It’s moored at the entrance to Galveston Bay to warn ships that land is near and to guide them when necessary.”
Ashton drew the blanket more closely around her. “For some strange reason, I feel safer knowing it’s there.”
“Are you cold?” he asked quietly.
She glanced at him. “A little, but I’m not ready to go inside yet.”
He reached for her. “Come here, then, and I’ll warm you.”
Instinct warned her to stay put, but her heart and shivering body obeyed his request, and she moved to his lap. He tucked the blanket snugly around her before wrapping her within his embrace.
“How can you be so warm?” she asked.
“I grew up in a colder climate. After five years here, the heat bothers me less, but still I don’t much care for the summers.”
“I love the summers. It’s the only time I’m not cold. August is my favorite month.”
She felt his exaggerated shudder, knowing the action was intentional and not brought on by the slight chill in the night air.
“I dislike August the most,” he said, “And not only because it’s the month that we first picked cotton.”
“I can’t imagine you working in a cotton field,” she said.
“I find it difficult to imagine as well, but I stuck it out because Gray was so determined to see the stalks plucked clean. I loathed every moment of it.”
“You’re all fortunate to have such good friends in one another.”
“I’ve always thought so.”
She nestled her head within the crook of his shoulder. “You’ve told me about your brother and father. What of your mother?”
“She was a saint.”
“Was?”
His arms tightened around her, and she glanced up to see him staring out to sea.
“She became ill the winter before Clarisse died. Whatever it was, the disease took her quickly and unexpectedly. I was holding her, reading to her, and when I glanced down, she was gone.”
Ashton pressed her palm to his cheek. “And here you are holding another dying woman.”
“Tragedy comes in threes, does it not?”
“How unfair for you.” She covered her mouth, trying to stifle her yawn.
“The hour is late, sweetling. I should put you to bed.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood. “I can walk, you know.”
“I might as well carry you, since you’re already within my embrace.”
“You’re going to spoil me.”
�
��In ways you can’t even imagine,” he promised as he walked into the bedroom.
She glanced at the four-poster canopied bed and her mouth went dry as he released his hold and she slowly slid down his body. As casually as she could, she removed the blanket and draped it over the bed. “There’s no changing screen.”
“You won’t need one,” he assured her, and her heart sped up as she slowly turned to face him.
“I won’t?”
“You’ll have privacy here. I’ve taken the room across the hall.”
Disappointment slammed into her. “You didn’t need to do that.”
He held out a hand as though to explain better. “We are the only two within a house on an isolated part of the island. Our sleeping habits will not be the fodder for local gossip as they would have been in Fortune.”
She nodded briskly. “Of course.”
“It’s for the best, Ashton, if we are to hold to the original intent of our marriage.”
“I understand,” she said, wringing her hands. “Truly I do. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“The cook should arrive in time to prepare our breakfast.”
“Wonderful.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Sleep well, sweetling.”
He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
She turned and kicked one of the bedposts. She’d wanted a kiss on the lips, not the forehead, as though she were his sister or worse, his child. She wanted to curl against him as she slept.
She plopped down on the bed. She had wanted to visit Galveston , and he had brought her, as a friend, not as a husband. He was right, of course. Their sleeping arrangement was for the best.
Still, for reasons she could not explain, that knowledge hurt.
*
Kit paced the confines of his room while some damned clock downstairs bonged twice. Two o’clock in the morning, and he had yet to sleep a wink.
After several nights of holding Ashton in his arms while he slept—first the night they were married; and then each night along their journey when the stagecoach stopped at an inn—he didn’t know what to do with his bloody arms when they were empty. They thrashed about, searching for her, keeping him awake. How could he grow so accustomed to her small frame nestled against his while he slept? It was ludicrous that his body should torment him with the memories of her scent, her warmth, the sound of her breathing.
He was beyond exhaustion, having spent the entire afternoon making all the arrangements for their stay here. Sleep should have come quickly. Instead it eluded him as much as absolution.
What if she were having another attack as she had on their wedding night? Would she call out for him? He should have given her instructions to yell if she needed him. But her voice was so soft, would he hear her even if she screamed?
Tomorrow he would purchase a cowbell, and she could clang it if she had one of her spells. Yes indeed, that action would solve his little problem of knowing if he was needed. Now all he had to determine was how he could sleep without her in his arms. He glared at the bed as though it were his enemy. He should have searched for a house that had only one bedroom. Then only one option would have been available to them. The one he desired.
He stopped pacing and stared at his door. He could check on her. He should check on her. Make certain she was comfortable and sleeping well. As her husband, he was ultimately responsible for her welfare. With that matter settled, he stalked across the room and flung open the door.
He came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Ashton standing within her doorway. Her screech echoed down the hallway as she pressed a hand just below her throat and stepped back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You scared the living daylights out of me.”
“I realize that. Why are you out of bed?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I thought some warm milk might help,” she explained.
“I have a better solution.” He crossed the hallway and lifted her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he walked toward her bed.
“Unfortunately, I have discovered that I have grown accustomed to sleeping with you.” He laid her on the bed. “If you have no objection, I would like to sleep in your bed tonight.”
“And you want me to go to your bed?”
“No! If I wanted that, I wouldn’t have carried you in here. Didn’t you listen to what I just said?”
“Yes, but it’s confusing when you sound so angry.”
He sighed deeply. “I’m not angry. I’m tired. It’s two o’clock in the bloody morning.”
She slipped beneath the sheets and scooted over. “Join me, then.”
Grateful for her understanding, he turned down the lamp, removed his trousers, and climbed into bed. He raised his arm, and she came into his embrace as though she belonged there. If he weren’t so tired, the thought would have kept him from sleeping.
Just as he was drifting off, he heard her soft voice. “Kit?”
“Mmm?”
“I lied.”
“About what?”
“I wasn’t going to get some warm milk. I was going to sneak into your bed. Seems I’ve grown used to sleeping with you, too.”
Chuckling low, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Oh, Ashton, what am I going to do with you?”
*
CHAPTER 10
« ^ »
A s a gray haze eased into the room, Kit felt his wife stir, moving from within his embrace. He tightened his hold on her and mumbled, “Where are you going?”
“I want to see the dawn.”
Before he could prevent it, she slipped away from him.
After several days of travel and with less than four hours of sleep last night, he’d hoped they might stay in bed until the late afternoon. “Come back to bed, sweetling. The dawn will be there tomorrow.”
“For you,” she said softly.
He squeezed his eyes shut more tightly, listening to her bare feet pad across the floor as she scurried onto the balcony. Was her life nothing but waiting for death or was she so concerned with death that she avoided life?
He threw back the covers, snatched up his trousers, and jerked them on. He stepped onto the balcony and crossed to where she stood, staring at the sun lightly stroking away the evidence of night. He drew her back against his chest, wrapped his arms around her, and settled his chin on top of her head.
“You didn’t have to get up,” she said.
“I know.”
She placed her arms over his. “It’s so incredibly beautiful.”
“The sun does seem to favor the skies of Texas , although I prefer the sunsets.”
She twisted her head slightly to look up at him. “Why?”
Because it placed one more day of guilt behind him, while the sunrise signaled another day to endure. Perhaps they were more alike than he thought, avoiding life because death held them within its unmerciful grip. “I don’t know,” he lied. “Perhaps because I enjoy the night.” He yawned. “And the sleep it brings.”
She turned her gaze back to the sunrise. “Last night the bed felt incredibly empty before you joined me.”
“It was empty. You take up no room at all.” He gave into temptation and kissed the nape of her neck. She rolled her shoulder inward. “I shall have you looking like Jack Spratt’s wife before we’re done here,” he promised.
She giggled and her hands tightened their hold.
“Don’t suppose I could have chocolate for breakfast.”
“Sweetling, you may have anything your heart desires.”
She pointed in the distance where a carriage became visible just beyond the dunes. “Someone is coming.”
“Probably the cook and her daughter. I’ll tell her to delay breakfast for an hour until we’ve finished our morning stroll.”
She turned around. “Our morning stroll?”
“Yes, I enjoy a brisk walk before breakfast. Since I indulged you and shared the sunrise
with you, now you must indulge me and join me while I take my walk.” He patted her bottom. “Now, get dressed and meet me downstairs. No need to bother with stockings or shoes.”
He strode out of her room and into his. He glared at his reflection in the mirror. “Inviting her to join you on your walk was a damned stupid move, you ass. You don’t want to grow overly fond of her.”
His reflection glared mockingly back because it already knew the truth. He was extremely fond of Ashton and her innocence.
He grabbed a shirt and yanked it over his head, securing the remaining buttons as he stepped into the hallway at the same moment that his wife did.
With a shy smile, she wiggled her toes. “I’ve never gone barefoot. It seems indecent.”
His laughter echoed along the hallway as he took her hand. “Ah, sweetling. I could tell you of indecent things that would make your hair curl.”
“Like what?”
He laughed harder as they went down the stairs. “You don’t want to know.”
She stopped abruptly. He turned slightly and looked at her.
Her face was solemn. “I do want to know.”
He heaved a deep sigh. How in the world had he managed to get himself onto this path of conversation?
He retraced his steps until they were even, leaned toward her, and whispered into her ear. With satisfaction, he drew back, expecting her mouth agape and her eyes wide.
Instead, she simply shrugged. “Oh, that.” And started down the stairs.
“What do you mean ‘oh that?’” He hurried after her as she walked into the kitchen. “Ashton—”
He came up short at the sight of the cook and her daughter. He’d given them keys to the house when he’d hired them so they could come and go as needed without disturbing him or Ashton. He tilted his head slightly. “Mrs. Edwards, Miss Edwards, I’d like you to meet my wife.”
Both ladies curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to serve you, Mrs. Montgomery,” Mrs. Edwards said. “We’re lookin’ forward to seein’ after you while you’re here.”
Gently Kit grabbed Ashton’s arm and guided her toward the door. “We’re going for a morning stroll. Have an enormous breakfast ready in an hour.”
Rogues in Texas 03 - Never Marry a Cowboy Page 10