by Sharon Sala
“Miss Wilhemina, I know I should have called, but I’m the type of man who prefers to face situations head-on. I’ve come to ask your permission to court your niece, and these are for you.”
It was reflex that made her take the offered bouquet. But it was pure pleasure that made her sink her nose into the huge cutting of yellow gladiolus. How had he known she liked the spiky blooms?
“Well now,” she muttered. “I suppose you’d better come in.”
Tyler’s belly settled just enough to answer. “Yes, ma’am. I suppose I should.”
Amelia hadn’t been home from the library more than half an hour and was upstairs changing her clothes, unaware of the momentous meeting taking place downstairs. The day on the job had gone better than she’d hoped, but she was still a bit lost as to where she stood with Tyler. Granted he’d come to her aid when she’d asked for help about buying a car. And, it was a fact that he’d actually had a fight, almost two, over her reputation. But she had yet to know what his intentions were.
Too tired to worry about it any longer, she shrugged out of her dress and reached for a pair of white slacks and a matching long-sleeved blouse. They were old, but soft and comfortable. She was digging in the bottom of her closet for a pair of low-heeled, sling-back sandals when her aunt’s voice drifted upstairs.
“Ahmeelya!”
“Coming.”
The last thing she’d expected to see was Tyler at the foot of the stairs, watching her descent like a cat waiting for a mouse to emerge from a hole. Then she saw the look on his face and nearly missed a step. She was out of her hole. What he intended to do with her was another matter altogether. By the time her foot touched the bottom step, she was a nervous wreck.
“Amelia.”
His voice was soft and coaxing and it pulled her the rest of the way toward him. She wanted to fly into his arms just as she had on more than one occasion at The Old South, but this was Tulip, and she was Amelia, and so she simply looked at him and smiled.
“Tyler’s staying for supper,” Wilhemina said shortly.
Her mouth dropped as she turned and stared at Wilhemina in shock. If her aunt had announced she was running for mayor she wouldn’t have been more surprised.
He could hardly take his eyes off the tall, elegant young woman dressed in white. He desperately wanted to take her in his arms and kiss that worried expression on her mouth. “Only if Amelia has no objections,” Tyler reminded her.
Wilhemina snorted. “That’s unlikely,” she muttered. “Amelia, you help me set the table. Rosemary will entertain our guest until the meal is ready to be served.”
Amelia had a moment of panic at the thought of Aunt Rosie alone with this man. What in the world might she say? She was capable of almost anything. And then she remembered. If what she suspected was true, Aunt Rosie and Tyler had already established a relationship of sorts. They’d probably do just fine.
“Yes, ma’am.” She shrugged and grinned at Tyler. There was no use arguing with Aunt Witty. “Where is Aunt Rosie, anyway?”
“I don’t know, but I expect she’ll be along soon. I heard her go out a few minutes ago. She’s probably gone for one of her walks.”
Then Wilhemina turned to Tyler, suddenly a little confused as to what to do with him. “Well, young man, I suppose you know how to turn on the television. I’ll call you when supper is ready.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tyler said. He was just as vulnerable as Amelia. He didn’t know where he stood with this woman, but he’d do anything it took to get in her good graces.
He watched them leave the room and then shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. This was a hell of a note. Tyler “Give ’em Hell” Savage was parked in the front parlor of a one hundred and fifty-year-old house trying to get on the good side of a woman in her eighties just so he could make time with the niece. He’d never spent so much time worrying about approval in his entire life.
Dutifully, he turned on the television and took a seat. This was going to be a night to remember, he could just feel it.
Across the street, Effie Dettenberg was also receiving an unexpected guest as she went to answer the knock on her door.
“Why, Rosemary, do come in! I can’t remember the last time you came to visit.”
“Thank you, Effie, but I believe I’ll just stand out here. This isn’t a social call.”
Effie blanched and then blustered. She wasn’t going to be put out by a diddly-headed old woman fussing at her. Effie completely ignored the fact that a mere three years separated them in age. She’d done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing at all.
“Then state your business,” Effie said. “I’ve got to get Maurice’s supper. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Rosemary fluffed herself up to her full height of five feet three inches, patted her hair and smoothed down the skirt of her pale blue organza.
“I understand you’ve been meddling,” she said sharply. It was so unlike Rosemary to be sharp about anything that Effie was momentarily dumbstruck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Effie said. She stared over Rosemary’s shoulder, half expecting to see the older sister come charging across the street.
“That figures,” Rosemary said. “You rarely know what you’re talking about, either, so let me make myself clear.” She took a step forward and pointed a dry, shaky finger in Effie’s face. “If it were me, and I’d been the one who’d snuck out of my father’s house to run away with a riverboat gambler years ago, I wouldn’t have the nerve to talk about anyone else’s business. But it wasn’t me who did that, was it, Effie?”
Effie drooped against the door frame and considered the possibility of just slamming the door in her face, but that wouldn’t help matters. From the look on Rosemary’s face, not much would. She gulped and tried to talk. Nothing but a hiss came out as Rosemary continued.
“I heard that your father went looking and found the both of you in a cathouse in Natchez. I always figured that was just gossip. I hate gossip, don’t you?”
Effie groaned.
Rosemary straightened her shoulders, glanced down at the watch pinned to her bosom and grinned brightly. “Well now, it’s nearly suppertime. I do believe we’re having pot roast tonight, and it’s my favorite. I wouldn’t want to be late.” She started down the steps when she stopped and turned. “I’m so glad we had this talk, aren’t you?”
Effie nodded and watched the tiny woman dodder across the street, then sucked in a breath. It escaped slowly through her teeth in a near-silent whistle. She’d just been sideswiped by Hurricane Rosemary and considered herself lucky to still be standing.
By the time she realized that she should be suffering some sort of indignation, she slammed the door a bit too late to impress anyone and stomped toward the kitchen.
“Darned old biddy. Didn’t think there was anyone left in Tulip old enough to remember.”
Effie’s one bid for freedom had ended in supreme defeat and embarrassment. She’d spent her adult life trying to live down the event by bringing everyone else’s reputation down with her. Obviously, she was going to have to find a new outlet for her energy.
Eight
Rosemary patted at her hairdo and succeeded in mussing more than fixing. “I just can’t remember the last time we were escorted into Sunday services. This is so exciting.”
Tyler grinned as Amelia calmly put Aunt Rosie’s hairdo back in order. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed. “It’s real nice for me, too. I don’t normally get to sit with three pretty women.”
The phrase “pretty women” pleased Wilhemina. But no one would have been able to tell from the prudish expression on her face. Her mouth puckered disapprovingly as she watched Tyler slip his hand beneath Amelia’s arm. And then a strange and unfamiliar emotion tugged at her heart as Amelia’s face lit from within at Tyler’s touch. For a moment she wondered what her life would have been like if she’d done things differently. She sighed.
“Yes, well, it’s been a while
since a man occupied our family pew. I suppose it’s time.”
Rosemary twittered and giggled as Tyler slid his other hand beneath her arm and helped her past a crack on the step.
Wilhemina frowned at her sister’s girlish flirting. It was close to a disgrace. “Rosemary! Do come along.”
The aunts moved ahead, leaving Amelia and Tyler a few steps behind. Glad that she had a moment alone, Amelia turned to say something to him and forgot what it was when she walked into a kiss.
Tyler couldn’t help himself. It was the glimpses he kept getting of Amber that reminded him of what lay beneath Amelia’s virtuous exterior. Her mouth was warm and open, and he took outrageous advantage of the opportunity to slip inside.
Amelia was just starting to enjoy it when she remembered they were standing on the church steps in full view of anyone who happened to be arriving. With a reluctant blush, she pulled back, and then glanced around, sighing with relief as she realized there was no one in sight.
Tyler traced the fullness of her lower lip with the tip of his finger as his eyes traced the outline of her body. He’d never realized how enticing a woman could be by revealing less, not more. It was a puzzling realization to know that Amelia was even more intriguing than Amber.
“I’m not going to apologize for that,” he said, and then grasped her by the arm and quickly ushered her inside the church, only a few steps behind the aunts.
That the congregation took notice of his seating arrangements was putting it mildly. The whispers were rampant until Tyler made what looked to be a nonchalant turn toward the congregation. The shut-up or put-up look he gave them was clear. Tyler Savage was openly courting Amelia Ann Beauchamp and there wasn’t a man alive in Tulip who had enough grit in his craw to argue the issue.
For Amelia, the worst of it was over. For Tyler it was just beginning. He had to figure out a way to convince Amelia that he really loved her, and knew it wouldn’t be easy. After all, she’d also heard him tell Amber how much she meant to him. If he wasn’t careful, she’d think him a philanderer. She didn’t know he’d caught onto her “other life.”
It would all be so simple if she’d just confess, but he could see her point. She’d have to look him square in the face and admit that she already knew how hard his body got when he held her. That she moaned exactly twice every time he kissed the spot below her chin where her pulse throbbed. And that her breasts always peaked beneath that red satin just from his look.
He’d experienced a side of Amelia that she had yet to admit existed. It was strange to have almost made love to one woman and barely gotten past kissing another—and they were still one and the same.
When the preacher called for the first song, Effie hit the chords at the organ with unusual force. Rosemary looked up from her hymnal. Obviously Effie had gotten the message. It was good that she’d chosen to put her fervor into religion for a change. Rosemary was of the opinion that a little change never hurt anyone. With a satisfied smirk, she straightened her skirt and patted her hair in place. It was a wonderful Sunday after all.
The last crumb of Wilhemina’s coffee cake disappeared into Tyler’s mouth. He leaned back and groaned with a satisfied smile on his face.
“Miss Wilhemina, you’re a fine cook. I haven’t eaten as much or as well since my folks moved to Florida.”
She almost blushed. “Thank you, Tyler.”
The thought of having a man to a meal at their house had been horrifying to her, but now that it had happened, she realized it hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d expected. After all, he’d asked so politely to come courting, it was only good manners to respond in kind.
Amelia smiled and then caught a look from Tyler that froze the smile on her face. If she knew her man—and she’d spent the last fifteen years of her life absorbing as much knowledge of him as she could—food was the last thing on his mind.
His eyes caressed her body with a look that sent a wave of heat spiraling to her face, but she gave back look for look, allowing herself a rare exploration of the man who’d stolen her heart.
While she watched, his lashes wavered and then slowly lowered. She watched his nostrils flare as his eyelids closed. It was subtle, but the shift of his fingers into a fist was obvious as his napkin crumpled in the palm of his hand. The buttons on his shirtfront tightened and pulled against the fabric; the only hint he’d given that the breath he’d just taken was long and deep. But when he opened his eyes, the fire inside made her flinch.
With shaking hands, she tried to return her water glass to its proper place and clinked it against her plate, instead. The aunts looked askance, half-expecting the remaining contents to go spilling across the linen tablecloth. Amelia blushed, caught it as it teetered and righted it with a whisper of apology.
Rosemary tried not to giggle. She’d seen the looks passing between them and knew what was going on. My, but it was going to be nice having a man around the house.
Innocence dripped from her voice. “My word, Amelia, it’s such a nice afternoon, you should take Tyler for a drive in your new car. Get a little fresh air into your lungs. You know how you’ve been having those headaches.”
Wilhemina frowned. She didn’t think it was a good idea. But she hesitated too long and there was no easy way to insert her objections as Tyler quickly picked up on the suggestion.
“You have headaches?” His concern was genuine.
Amelia shrugged. “Some.”
“She reads too much,” Wilhemina accused.
Rosemary rolled her eyes. “For pity’s sake, Willy. It’s her job. What would you have her do, guess at the contents of the books in the library? When someone comes in asking her a question she can’t answer, would you have her lie? I’m surprised at you.”
Wilhemina glared. Her concern for the unchaperoned trip was forgotten as her anger at her sister increased. Unknowingly, she’d fallen right into Rosemary’s trap. Her gasp of outrage was loud and long.
“I’d never have her lie!”
Amelia caught the gleam in Aunt Rosie’s eyes. Why, the little schemer! She’s done this on purpose just to distract Aunt Witty from causing a scene about Tyler!
Tyler knew something was afoot. He could tell by the stunned expression on Amelia’s face. He didn’t know what was up, but he had no intentions of losing the advantage of Rosemary’s invitation.
“Amelia, I’d be pleased if you’d let me do the driving. I’d like to show you my farm. The crops are up and the weather’s been holding. This promises to be a good harvest.”
“That would be fine,” she said, and tried not to bolt from her chair.
Wilhemina’s eyes grew round. She started to splutter when Rosemary sighed and leaned forward, accidentally on purpose upsetting a jar of conserve. The spoon that flew out onto the white linen was sticky with the sugary cherries.
“Oh Willy, just look what I’ve done! Help me get these dishes off before it leaves a stain.”
Wilhemina jumped to her feet and began removing the plates while Rosemary turned and winked at Tyler. It was so charming and so unexpected, he almost laughed. He just realized what Amelia had spotted instantly. They had a cohort in their budding romance.
“Run along you two,” Rosemary urged, as her sister disappeared into the kitchen with a stack of china. “When she comes back, I’ll tell her you gave her your regards. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
Amelia threw her arms around Aunt Rosie and nuzzled the rose petal softness of the weathered little cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.
Rosemary’s blue eyes twinkled as she whispered back. “You’re telling that to the wrong person.”
Amelia was dumbstruck. Love Tyler? Could that be true? In a daze, she allowed Tyler to lead her away.
Tyler opened the door, helped her into the seat of his truck, and then moved her skirt away from being caught in the door. Inadvertently, his hands ran the length of her thigh as he scooted the fullness to safety. Even below the folds of yellow fabric he could feel
the firm, slender legs she dutifully kept hidden. He swallowed harshly, remembering what they’d looked like beneath the black net hose Amber always wore, and looked up. She was staring back, with lips parted, breathing soft and enticingly urgent. Unable to resist what she offered, he leaned forward, and in the front yard in front of God and Effie Dettenberg, he kissed her.
Amelia moaned as that sexy mouth invaded her space. Firm lips enticed…cajoled…promised. She gripped the seat with her hands and shuddered as he slowly withdrew.
“Are you ready, darlin’?”
She blinked. Ready? Was she ever! “Oh, uh, yes!” A wave of pink swept across her cheeks. “We’d better go before Aunt Witty realizes we’re still…that we…”
Tyler laughed. “Darlin’, if your aunt knew what was on my mind, she’d never let you out of the front yard.”
Amelia was so stunned by his honesty that they drove all the way out of town and through several miles of countryside before she realized that they’d turned into the driveway of his home and had parked.
“We’re here,” Tyler said.
“So we are,” she said breathlessly, and looked everywhere and at everything except Tyler.
For one long moment they sat in shared silence inside the pickup truck while Tyler watched the confusion in her expression coming and going. That plus her stiffened posture told him all he needed to know.
She was nervous.
But hell, she had nothing on him. Every muscle in his body was jumping like frog legs in a frying pan. He wanted to drag her out of that pickup, coax her into his arms and into his bed and never let her out of the house again. All he could do was offer her a hand down from his pickup.
Amelia fidgeted with her skirt and hair, wishing she had a mirror, then in quiet panic, smoothed down the collar of her dress and started to straighten her belt when Tyler’s hand stayed her intent.
“Amelia…”
With a sigh, she looked up.