Mrs. Bottoms and her maids began to clean. Lark watched them, hoping to pick up a few pointers.
“You have any vinegar?” Mrs. Bottoms asked.
“I don’t know.” She looked under the cabinet and came up with a jug. “Yes.”
“Good, we’ll get those dirty windows sparkling. Lacey, why don’t you take down the curtains and wash them while I do that?”
Wash the curtains. She wasn’t very good with an iron, either. She began to pull down the short gingham curtains. There were cobwebs hanging across the room and in the corners. “We can’t get it ready in time.”
“But of course we can,” Mrs. Bottoms said, her plump face shiny with exertion. “It’s a small house, but with a little spit and polish, we can get it sparkling and homey.”
“If you think so,” Lark said. She got a bucket and went out in the backyard to the well. She carried in two buckets of water. One of the maids was already putting a kettle on to boil so they’d have hot water to wash the dishes. “Looking at this mess, I wondered if Lawrence didn’t marry me so he could have a housekeeper.”
The old lady looked up from her cleaning. “I doubt that, honey. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, which makes me think he married you for a totally different reason.”
The Mexican maids giggled again.
They cleaned all morning. When the three women left, Lark collapsed in a chair with a groan. Then she got up, set up the ironing board, and put the irons on the stove to heat. Housework was harder than branding and working cattle with the Triple D cowhands. About one o’clock, Lawrence came home, looking considerably better. “You got lunch ready?”
She stifled the urge to hit him in the head with an iron. “I’ll rustle you up a sandwich.”
He smiled and sat down at the kitchen table. “I think I’m gonna like bein’ married.”
I think I’m not, Lark thought, but she didn’t say that. She sliced up cold roast beef, got out some stale bread, and put it before him.
“I hope you know how to make pickles,” he said. “I dearly love homemade pickles and fresh tomatos.”
“I’m sorry”—she gritted her teeth—“but I haven’t had time to plant a garden yet, much less can pickles.”
He seemed to miss the sarcasm. “Place looks good, Lacey. You better give yourself time to get cleaned up. You look like something Miss Wiggly’s cat dragged in.”
“Of course. I’ll spend the whole afternoon in my bubble bath.”
He went right ahead eating, seemingly unaware that she was being sarcastic. “Whatever you think.”
He finished and wiped his face on his sleeve. “What are we havin’ for supper?”
“How can a man just finish dinner and be thinking about supper?”
He grinned at her. “There’s two things men think about a lot, and eatin’s one of them.” He winked. “Well, I got to get back to work. Don’t you work too hard now.”
Supper. She leaned against the cabinet and watched him leave. Maybe she could try broiling a steak and frying some potatoes.
Supper was none too good, but Lawrence put up a brave front as he sat down to lumpy potatoes and burnt steak. He looked across at Lark, and she couldn’t hold the tears back. “I reckon now you know I can’t cook.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t marry you for your cookin’.” He grinned at her. “Tonight I’ll show you why I married you.”
She had never heard him say something so bold. She felt her face go red. “Why, Lawrence.”
“Reckon I overstepped myself. I’m sorry.”
She stared at him in the awkward silence while he went brick red. “We’ve got to get ready, the whole town is coming. You must be the most popular sheriff ever.”
“I reckon I’m the only one that ever lived long enough for them to get to know very well.”
She smiled at him. “Everyone says this was a really tough town before you cleaned it up.”
He ducked his head modestly. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. It was my duty.”
Could she expect anything less from a former Ranger?
He stood up. “Now I reckon we’d better get ready for our company.” He hesitated. “Lacey, I reckon last night wasn’t so good, and I’m sorry for it. Maybe tonight I can make it up to you.”
“Oh, Lawrence.” He was the thoughtful, wonderful man she’d thought he was. She went into his arms, and he kissed her—really kissed her.
She pulled away after a long moment. “Land’s sake.”
He grinned at her, and somehow, that crooked grin was so much like his black-sheep brother. “Just wait ’til later,” he promised.
Her heart pounded with excitement. Later. Oh, she was so glad she hadn’t packed up and cleared out. “I’ll get the table cleared. Folks should be here soon.”
“I could lock the door and pull all the curtains,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Lawrence!” she scolded. “What would everyone think?”
He grinned even bigger. “You know what they’d think.”
She felt herself flush. “We’ll talk about that later.”
For the bashful sheriff, he certainly was getting more cocky and confident than before. Maybe that would translate into the bedroom. Well, in about three hours she intended to find out.
Chapter Ten
At about seven on that hot summer evening, the crowd began to arrive. Everyone, that is, but Mr. and Mrs. Snootley. She had sent word that she had a headache and her husband had to stay home to look after her, Mrs. Bottoms said. Everyone was laughing about the incident, though, knowing how she reacted to the pink hat and the little donkey. Speaking of which, Magnolia—who didn’t seem to realize she wasn’t invited—managed to get out of her stable and show up too. When Lark glanced out the window, the little burro was quietly munching the flowers out by the front door.
The crowd filled the little house to overflowing, and the gifts they had brought piled up deeper and deeper on the dining table.
“Land’s sake.” Tears came to Lark’s eyes as she looked at the bounty. “I didn’t realize he was so well liked.”
“And you, too, my dear,” said Mrs. Bottoms. The crowd applauded. “Now look at what the good people brought.”
There was a pound of Arbuckles’ coffee, and a pound of cornmeal. Someone else had brought a pound of flour and a pound of sugar. Another sack held a pound of salt, and here were a dozen eggs, and a gallon of milk. The pile got larger and larger as folks arrived.
“Why,” Lark said, “there’s enough supplies to keep us for weeks.”
“We wanted to show how much we care about you two newlyweds,” Paco said. “The ladies also brought a few dishes and a pan or two to help you get started.”
Lawrence put his arm around Lark’s shoulders. “We’re much obliged, folks. Someday, I’m gonna build this lady a nice big house when I can afford a ranch, but ’til then, we’re much obliged to you.”
“We certainly are.” Lark smiled. His muscular arm around her shoulders felt comforting. “This is a good place to live, and I’m proud to be a citizen of Rusty Spur.”
The jovial crowd applauded.
“Now,” said Mrs. Bottoms, “let’s get down to the refreshments. We knew the new bride wouldn’t have time to bake up a bunch of cakes, so some of the ladies brought a little something.”
“Hooray!” Little Jimmy jumped up and down. The men also cheered. Lark thought she wouldn’t have the least idea how to bake a cake, and a dog probably wouldn’t eat it, anyway. Well, maybe she could learn. She looked fondly at her new husband as he shook hands good-naturedly. Men slapped him on the back and ladies handed him new babies to admire. Yes, Lawrence Witherspoon was a mighty popular sheriff.
The ladies began to serve the refreshments. There was plenty of iced tea served in pint jars, and fresh-ground coffee with thick cream and sugar for those who wanted it—made like Texans liked it, strong enough to float a horseshoe. There were blackberry and rhubarb pies, apple and peach cobb
lers, chocolate cake, and Lady Baltimore cake with creamy fruit filling, and even a tub of homemade ice cream. Everyone went back for seconds. Lark had never been so happy. She forgot all about her troubles with the law, exalting in her new husband and the love of this town. For once, she didn’t feel inferior to her perfect sister.
Finally, people began to take their departure.
Lark and Lawrence stood arm in arm, seeing them off, thanking them again for the bounty they had brought. Magnolia was still out munching on the front flower bed.
Paco grinned. “Jimmy and I will put her back in her stall so you won’t have to come out, Sheriff.”
Lawrence nodded. “I’d be much obliged, Paco.”
Finally, the house was empty. Lark sighed and closed the front door. “That was so generous of the town.”
“I didn’t think they’d ever leave.” He grinned and held out his arms to her.
“That’s not nice,” she scolded as she went into his embrace.
“I reckon it isn’t, but being as how we’re newlyweds…”
She tilted up her face and he kissed her—really kissed her. It was so unexpected and so passionate that Lark was taken by surprise.
“Oh my,” she whispered against his lips.
“If you’d just as soon I didn’t—”
“I didn’t say that,” Lark said kissing him back.
“I think I owe you a wedding night, Mrs. Witherspoon,” he murmured against her lips.
He was a lot more forward than she had expected from the shy sheriff, but that was okay. Maybe he always had to compete with his brother too. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m surprised at the fellas,” he said as he nuzzled her neck. “Usually, when someone gets married, they got to put up with a shivaree. You know how Texans are.”
“I certainly do,” she laughed, remembering some of the shivarees she’d heard about around her hometown. A shivaree was a Southern custom mostly, but Texans liked it too.
Usually, about the time the couple was going to bed, a rowdy crowd of men would gather around the house, hooting and making noise, until the couple came to the door and rewarded them with refreshments. If they didn’t, some of the ruffians had been known to kidnap the bride and keep her all night so her poor groom couldn’t enjoy his marital rights.
“I reckon since we’ve been married one night, and we’ve already served refreshments, the boys won’t bother with that,” Lawrence murmured.
“Let’s hope,” Lark whispered, and she kissed him. The kiss deepened, and she forgot about the townsfolk—she forgot about everything but experiencing that kiss, longer and deeper until they were both gasping with excitement. She hadn’t thought the bashful sheriff could be so skilled, but he certainly wasn’t bashful now.
“I think I’d better turn off all the lamps,” Lark murmured, pulling away from him reluctantly. “I’ll join you in a minute.” She walked through the small house, putting her hand behind the chimneys and gently blowing out the flames. After a moment, she was left standing in the moonlight that filtered through the windows. “Here I come, ready or not.”
“Lady, I’m almost ready—I got my shirt off.”
In the darkness, she could barely see his big silhouette. She returned to her husband, splaying her fingers across his bare chest. He swung her up in his arms. She could feel his heart pounding against her face as he ducked his head and kissed her again, eagerly, insistently. She let his mouth force open her lips, and his tongue explored along the curve of her mouth.
Oh my. This was going to be something worth remembering. Last night’s fiasco didn’t matter anymore. She returned his kiss eagerly as he stood her slowly on her feet by the bed. They clung together, exchanging eager kiss for eager kiss. His big hands went to cover her breasts, caressing there.
“I reckon, Mrs. Witherspoon, you need to put on your nightgown.”
“Suppose I don’t put on anything at all?”
“That would be even better.” He pulled her to him again, kissing her face, the tip of her nose, and stroking her hair. His hands went down her back to cup her bottom, and he squeezed gently.
She clung to him, reveling in the deft touch of his hands as he caressed her. Lawrence was certainly a big surprise, but she was thrilled at his ardor.
He stepped away from her. “Reckon I’ll take off my boots and pants.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. She wanted him to watch her undress. She’d do it very slowly and deliberately, so he could savor every move with anticipation.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, and she knelt and pulled off his boots. “You know,” he said, “in the moonlight, with you bending over like that, I can see right down the front of your dress.”
She laughed. “Now why do you think I did that?”
“You surprise me, lady, you’re more forward than I’d expect.”
“You don’t like it?”
He laughed awkwardly. “No, ma’am, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” He stood up and pulled off his pants, then took off his long drawers. “Come here to me.”
She went into his arms, putting her hands on his rear. His hips were small, and lean, and powerful. When he pulled her close, she was only too aware of his aroused manhood. “Now you,” he commanded.
Lark started to unbutton the bodice of her gingham dress, fully aware that in the moonlight he could see every movement. Deliberately, she stretched it out, kicking off her slippers, taking the ribbon from her hair, and shaking her dark hair loose so that it fell in a black cascade over her shoulders.
“Quit stallin’,” he said. He pulled her to him again, tangling his hands in her hair, breathing hard as he kissed her deeper still.
About that time outside, all hell broke loose. There was shouting, and singing, and loud noise clattering around the house as if someone was banging on pans.
“What the—?” Lawrence stumbled away, and Lark was terrified. Then abruptly she realized what the racket was.
“It’s the boys!” She raised her voice over the din of noise. “We’re being shivareed.”
“Oh, damn it,” Lawrence said and reached for his pants. In the confusion, he couldn’t seem to find them. “Ouch!” He stumped his bare foot against a bedpost and hopped around on one foot, swearing.
“Let’s just keep quiet and ignore them,” Lark suggested. “Maybe they’ll go away.”
“Texans give up? It ain’t likely.” She could hear him stumbling about the room, still looking for his pants.
About that time, the rowdies burst through the front door, laughing and singing. “Hey, Sheriff, we thought we’d have a little fun with your bride.”
She protested, but already, Paco and Bill had her by the arms, leading her out the door with Lawrence calling after them. “Hey, bring her back! We was just about to—”
“We know!” The men laughed. “You’ll have to find her!”
With Lark protesting, the good-natured crowd led her out and lifted her up into a wagon. Lawrence ran out into the yard in pursuit—but he must have stepped on a rock, for once again, he was hopping about and cursing.
“Hey, Sheriff,” Paco yelled, “don’t you know you can get arrested for going out in public naked?”
“I’ll get you hombres for this!” The sheriff waved his fist at the crowd.
“You’ll have to catch us first!” someone yelled. There was a snap of the reins, and the wagon pulled away.
“Lawrence!” Lark yelled. “Come save me!”
“I’ll have to find my pants first!”
Magnolia must have gotten out of her pen again because she suddenly joined the confusion. She brayed so loudly the horses snorted, and the wagon took off at a gallop.
It was all good fun, Lark thought with a sigh as she hung on for dear life, but she wished the rowdies had waited another hour. No, even half an hour would have been fine. As the wagon rolled along, she thought wistfully of her first night in Lawrence’s arms and how these fun-loving rascals had ruined
it. Well, there was always tomorrow night.
She had thought the jokesters would just take her out to the big barn where the square dance had been held, but of course that would be the first place Lawrence might have looked. They took her out on a hilltop, and Lark sat on a rock woebegone while the men sat around a campfire, laughing and drinking.
“Did you see the sheriff’s face?”
“Oh, he was mad!”
“You ain’t upset with us, is you, missus? We’re just havin’ a little fun.”
“Oh, you’re just being Texans,” she sighed, remembering the urgent promise of that last kiss just before the rowdies had invaded the house.
After a couple of hours, a lookout rode up. “He’s comin’! I reckon he’s searched everywhere else.”
All the men paused and looked at each other uncertainly. “I reckon we’d better clear out. The sheriff may not think this is as funny as we did.”
“Sí, we’d all better clear out,” Paco decided, discretion being the better part of valor. To Lark, he implored, “Tell the sheriff we was just funnin’ around. We wouldn’t want to have him on the prod after us.”
“It’ll be all right,” she reassured them with a tired sigh. “Being a Texan himself, I’m sure he’ll understand.”
With that, the men ran to their horses and scattered like quail before a running bird dog. Lark watched them leave, then stood and waited for Lawrence to arrive.
He rode up, looking anxious and upset. “You all right?”
She shrugged. “You know Texans, having a little fun.”
“I ought to break their necks,” he muttered as he dismounted.
She ran into his arms. “It’s okay. They’re really worried about you being mad at them. You have a tough reputation around these parts.”
“That reputation cleaned up this town,” he said, kissing her forehead.
The night had grown cool, and she shivered in his arms. He took off his shirt and put it around her shoulders. “You’re liable to catch your death of cold,” he said, pulling her against his big, warm body.
Georgina Gentry - To Tease a Texan Page 15