by Jillian Hart
"Yes, I'm glad you can make yourself useful," she said lightly. "As long as you don't fall off the wagon seat."
"I'm getting the swing of driving while dizzy."
"There ought to be a law about that."
"I'll be sure and take it up with the sheriff."
The back stoops and windows of the alleys passed in a blur. He was able to focus enough to see a donkey pulling a cart turn off Main and head in their direction.
"Lila!" Mr. Grummel called as he approached. "I heard about your father. Oy. At least you have the deputy beauing you. Smart girl."
"It's nothing like that, Mr. Grummel!" Lila explained, but the older man held up his hand to wave off her words, chuckling. She frowned. "Some people leap to the oddest conclusions."
"That they do." He eased the horses to a halt at the intersection. When Lila smiled up at him, it made him forget about the past, leaving only the here and now where there was no reason he couldn't care about her, no reason they couldn't be more than friends.
Chapter Nine
"I"m sorry this is so late." Lila handed over the last crate on the daily order. The prairie winds pleasantly swirled her skirts and ruffled the tendrils that had worked their way out of her braided up-knot.
"I'm surprised you were able to make it at all." Joanna McKaslin took the crate gladly. "After my husband heard what happened to your father, he planned on driving into town tomorrow to fetch the order. Is it safe for you to be driving on the roads alone?"
"I'm not alone." For the thirteenth time that afternoon she gestured toward the wagon seat where Burke sat holding the reins. The breeze ruffled the ends of his dark hair. Dressed in black, his face shaded by the dark brim of his Stetson, he could have been any woman's dream come true. Not that she was dreaming.
Fine, she was dreaming, but only a little bit.
"He insisted on coming along with me. Since I couldn't get rid of him, I decided to make the out-of-town deliveries, too," she explained, praying she wasn't blushing.
"Deputy Hannigan." Joanna smiled her approval. "I don't pay any attention what some folks have been saying about him. I'll never forget how he stopped to help us in town last month. James had been stung by a bee and the deputy went to the trouble of asking the clerk in the nearest shop to make a poultice for him to take the pain away. That man has a kind heart."
"Yes, he does." He also had a stalwart spirit'or a stubborn one, depending on how you wanted to look at it. He'd insisted on driving through town, patiently negotiating traffic and residential streets although he looked ready to tumble off the seat. Would he admit he was in pain?
Never. She watched him like a hawk, but she'd only caught the tiniest grimace twice. He'd blithely talked her into the out-of-town deliveries, since he was armed and he didn't figure any robbers would want to raise trouble with the town's deputy. He sat powerfully, as if not a thing was wrong with him, but she knew better.
"Have a nice evening, Joanna."
"You, too, Lila. My family is keeping your father in prayer."
"Thank you so much." She crossed the shady covered porch and hopped onto the sun-blasted pathway flanked by flowers blooming merrily in boarder beds. Bees buzzed and the distant sound of children's laughter came from somewhere behind the house.
Burke held out his hand to help her into the wagon. Maybe he did look a little better. The fresh air may have done him some good. She plopped onto the seat next to him and arranged her skirts. The dappled shade overhead was refreshing. She could not admit to herself it might be the company.
"That was the last delivery." He snapped the reins. "The next stop, home?"
"Are you anxious to be rid of me?" She tugged at her sunbonnet as the matched bays plodded forward. The wagon rattled and lumbered along the dusty driveway toward the country road, bouncing her on the seat. She pushed her bonnet off her head and let it dangle by the strings down her back. The breeze fanned her face and her hair. Much better.
"Yes, I am anxious to be rid of you, but you already know that." Humor hooked the corner of his mouth, betraying his real feelings. "I'm a lone wolf. Spending an entire afternoon with a lady is more than I can do."
"You need toughening up, Deputy." She knelt down to unbutton her right shoe. "Maybe I can help you with that."
"Do I look like I need help?" The hook of his grin widened. "I'm too tough for that."
"Good, because your afternoon with me is not over yet." She loosened her shoelaces.
"What does that mean? That was the last stop."
"I packed a few snacks when I was crating the orders." She slid her foot out of her shoe. Her summer weight stocking felt too hot, so she shucked it off. "Why don't you take the next right when we hit the road to town?"
"Are you going to leave that off? Because if you are, I don't think it's decent that I see your bare feet. Your stepmother might come after me with a broom."
"It's just my feet, and besides, didn't you just say you were tough?"
"There's tough and then there's stupid. Put your shoe back on."
"No, I'm dying in this heat. The thermometer at the bank said it was ninety-five when we were in town last. It's gotten much hotter since." She bent to undo her other shoe. She didn't list the reasons why she was so uncomfortable. Her corset bound her tightly, a layer of clothing she could not take off. Her petticoats were the lightest cotton, but also added to her discomfort. Did her feet have to be hot, too? "Just don't look."
"I'll try to restrain myself." He chuckled as he reined the horses onto the main stretch of road, desolate and dusty this time of day. "But if your stepmother finds out, I'm blaming you."
"Much better." She tugged off her other shoe and wiggled her toes. "Turn right up there. It's not a driveway, but the wagon won't tip over."
"You've been here before?"
"It's the best spot to wade the river in the entire county."
Tall grasses gave glimpses of old wagon tracks as they danced and swayed. He urged the horses off the road and onto the bumpy ground. The wagon wheels lurched over clumps of bunch grass as the horses picked up their gait. Rich shade beckoned beneath the arching rustle of old cottonwoods and the lush grass looked invitingly cool. The music of the river sang above all the other sounds. Sunshine on water glinted with promise.
It was hard to believe strife could happen anywhere in the world with beauty like this, hard to believe Slim's gang and Cheever lurked in this peaceful prairie valley. He knew they were probably behind the attack on Lila's father. They hadn't gotten away with a lot of money from the bank, and they had to eat. The delivery wagon was full of groceries and supplies. His promise to her weighed heavily on him. He would catch Slim and Cheever. Arthur Lawson deserved justice.
Lila hopped from the seat, not bothering to wait for his assistance. He suspected his tough act hadn't fooled her nearly enough. She knew he was in pain. She was a dear sight as she landed with her bare feet crunching in the grass. She reached up, arms slim and elegant and plucked the pins out of her hair. The coil of her long braid came loose and slid down her back. She tossed her head innocently, lifting her face to take in the kiss of the cooler wind off the river's surface. Her thick lashes brushed her ivory skin as she closed her eyes briefly, savoring the sensation of the wind.
His pulse tumbled. He lost the ability to think. He forgot how to breathe. Never had there been a more arresting sight. He memorized the moment, the curve of her cheek, the faint smile on her lips and how alive she was, crowned by the sunny sky and surrounded by daisies
. One day far in the future he would want to remember this moment, remember her.
He stumbled down and tied the horses, unable to look away. He laid his hand on the grip of his .45 tucked in the waistband at his back. The trouble had happened far out of town, nowhere near here, but he could keep her safe. In a blink, he would lay down his life to protect her, his Lila, as sweet as the wildflowers brushing at her skirts.
"This way." She circled around a thistle flower where a big honey bee drank and skirted in the other direction to avoid the crown of a gopher hole. A jackrabbit darted through the foliage, terrified by the invader in a calico dress. Across the span of the river a doe lifted her head from grazing to stare at them warily.
"Divine." She sank both feet into the clear water, holding her skirt safely out of the water with both hands. "Oh, it's so cool. You have to feel this."
"I haven't gone wading since I was fifteen years old." The summer his life had gone from miserable to worse. The summer he'd grown up in a hurry. He'd lost more than his innocence that year, things he'd never been able to get back. "Kids play in the river."
"Don't you dare call me a kid." She flicked one long braid behind her shoulder and lifted her skirts higher. The snowy white lace edging her petticoats flashed against the silvery water's surface. "You are far too much of a stick-in-the-mud for your own good. Always playing the hero."
"Hero? Hardly. Maybe I'm the villain. You just don't know it." It was the truth and he held his breath. What would she say? Would she believe him?
"A villain? I don't think so."
Maybe she couldn't see it now, but she would. He sank onto a nearby boulder at the grassy edge. Eventually she would be able to see the real man he was. He couldn't hide it forever.
"I know what you are, Burke Hannigan." Water sparkled around her. She marched toward him, splashing rainbow droplets with every step. "You are in danger of suffering heat sickness. A little fun isn't going to hurt you."
"It might. You never know. I'm not used to frivolity."
"Yes, but something tells me you aren't opposed to it." She knelt at his feet and untied his boots. "At least give it a try. Since you are on leave from work, what else do you have to do?"
"Riding shotgun with you isn't as easy as a man might guess." He resisted the syrupy feelings gathering deep inside. "I can untie my own boots."
"Let me do it." She tugged on the second pair of laces and they fell free. "I don't want you to bend over too far and tear your stitches."
"My stitches are fine."
"I know." Mesmerizing tendrils tumbled forward to shield her face. Her affection warmed the air like summer and it made forgotten seeds take root within him. An answering affection he had no right to took root along with wishes he had no chance at.
She tugged off his boots and then his socks. He should stop her but he couldn't. He could not turn down her care and her closeness. When she rolled up his trousers to his knees with ladylike tugs on the fabric, he did his best to hold back his heart. He truly did. It fell anyway.
She cared for him. It was not right, it would not last, but for this moment he could not reject it. He needed it more than air to breathe, more than any sustenance. When she offered her hand to help him up, it was more that she offered. More that he accepted.
"You have gone gray again." She slid her arm around his back, as if to support some of his weight.
She probably had no notion what that meant to him, how she stole a piece of him. He didn't need to lean on her, he was too proud and independent to do it now that he was back on his feet, but he loved her for it. He loved her.
"The rocks are a little slippery and the water is'"
"Cold," he supplied, startled by the icy bite of the current. The wetness sluiced over his toes and lapped around his ankles. The gray stone river rocks bit into his soles, but she was right. He cooled down ten degrees. He grabbed the brim of his hat and tossed it into the grass.
"There's a boulder over there." She pulled him upstream into the tug of the current. Silt clouded upward like dust with every footstep. "I'll get you sitting down and then I'll fetch the treats from the wagon."
"You have been spending too much time with your stepmother." He grabbed hold of her braid and tugged, gently, before draping his arm around her shoulder. Not to lean on her, but to draw her close to his side. Being with her was nicer than anything he'd ever known. "You are not in charge here."
"Oh, and you are?" She planted her feet, forgot about her skirts and they dropped into the rushing water. Not that she noticed. "Because you are the man, I suppose?"
"Why? You act like that's the wrong answer. Of course I'm in charge because I'm the man."
"I can't believe my ears." Mirth made her eyes twinkle like emeralds. "The hero in the Range Rider books would never say something like that."
"I'm no hero," he protested lightly.
"But you have your passable moments. This isn't one of them. I think I've discovered the reason why you are a lone wolf. No one woman would have you."
"Yes. You've stumbled on the truth." His foot slipped on a stone, and he was glad she was there to steady him. He hated the weakness that left him shaky as he eased onto the sunny rock. Water gurgled around him and to his left the river spanned wide and dangerous. But here, in the dappled shade of the cottonwoods with both the horses and the country road in sight, Lila was safe. He could relax and let his guards slide down. "No woman has ever wanted me."
"I'm not at all surprised." She towered above him, blocking the sun, lithe and willowy and full of life and beauty. "The article in the newspaper warned you were not about to be caught by any lady in this town. Pete, who owns the paper, wasn't kidding."
"I get that everywhere I go. If there's a town newspaper they want to know if I'm single and willing." He raked a hand through his hair.
"But you're too much of a lone wolf." She waded away from him, her skirt hem floating in the water. "Haven't you been tempted even once?"
"Once." The truth rolled out, impossible to stop.
"Ooh, now I have to know more." She bounded up the bank, her alto bobbing on the breezes. "What was her name?"
"Sorry, but that's on a need-to-know basis."
"And don't I need to know?" She swirled through the daisies and went up on tiptoe to lug a few items from beneath the wagon seat. "I'm curious about the woman who could bring down your defenses."
"She is quite amazing." He leaned forward to dip his finger into the cold water. "I have never met anyone like her before."
"Do tell. I'm listening." She splashed into the glinting water, startling a dragonfly hovering nearby. Her skirts billowed around her as the current tugged and flowed. "Did she steal your heart?"
"As close as anyone has ever come," he confessed.
"Not that you would release it completely, ever really let anyone in." With a small basket hooked over one arm, she dipped the water bottle into the rippling water, filling it. "Or did you?"
"If anyone could, it would be her." He didn't feel comfortable saying more. No one's kindness could mean as much to him as Lila's had. His throat tightened with the feelings he could not speak. They remained wedged beneath his Adam's apple, a lump he could not budge.
"What was she like?" She handed him the small jug, deliciously cold from the water.
"She is pure caring." The deeper reaches of his consciousness could still remember the lilting softness of her voice reachin
g him through the fever and nightmares. For a time, she'd been his anchor, the only one he'd known in his adult life. "She has brown hair, but no ordinary brown. It has layers of color. Cinnamon. Auburn. Russet. Ginger. Chestnut."
"She was beautiful."
"To me, she's the most beautiful of women." The lump in his throat expanded, straining his words, making it hard to speak. "She has eyes that are the color of a northern sea, an eddy of ocean green and stormy blue sky that can make even a man like me dream."
"I have brown hair. I have green-and-blue eyes." She narrowed her gaze at him and plucked open the basket. Fresh strawberries spilled out of an ironware bowl and tumbled over onto a neighboring stack of sugar cookies. "You aren't being serious."
"How do you know?" He grinned, hiding his heart because she would not believe him. He didn't blame her. A sweetheart like her would not be interested in a man who had made bad choices in his life. Some choices could not be reversed, some acts could never be redeemed. The river's whisper and the melody of larks and Lila's sunny presence kept him in the light, away from the past.
"Have a strawberry. They were brought into the store fresh this morning." She held the basket out to him, refusing to stop taking care of him.
"I've told you a secret." He plucked a ripe berry from the bowl. "Now it's your turn."
"You didn't tell me a secret. I think you were playing a joke on me. Not a mean joke, but you managed to avoid my question quite nicely."
He pushed off the boulder, ignoring the protest of his healing wounds and the rush in his head from standing too quickly. "I answered your question the best I could. No one in twenty years has been as close to me as you."
"Oh." She gave her braid a toss, lifting her chin so that her gaze met his. Whatever she felt remained shielded and the saucy uplift in the corners of her mouth gave no clue. "Is that only because you were shot and couldn't escape me?"