by Lyn Horner
Forget your stupid dreams and visions, she told herself, pressing her trembling lips together. The idea of her loving David Taylor was preposterous. He was an ogre!
He reinforced her opinion that evening, when he took his meal at the kitchen table for the first time. Why he chose to sit across from her, Jessie didn’t know, but his nearness flustered her so much that she couldn’t pay attention as Charles Cooper said grace. Then, while the food was being passed around, she darted a glance at David and found him studying her with an intense frown on his face.
Taking this to mean he was displeased with her again, for some reason known only to him, she stiffened and glared at him. He cocked one dark eyebrow, still frowning. Then he set to work cutting up a slice of pot roast one-handed, totally ignoring her.
Their wordless exchange had apparently gone unnoticed by the others, Jessie was glad to see. Concentrating on her own food, she paid little heed to the conversation swirling around her. Until, that is, Milly drew everyone’s attention.
“Captain, I’m curious,” she said, “how is it that a handsome man like you isn’t married?”
Jessie froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. Across the table, she met David’s unreadable gaze; then he flashed Milly a charming grin.
“You flatter me, ma’am. But I’m afraid I haven’t been as lucky as your husband. If I had found someone like you, I’m certain I wouldn’t be leading a bachelor’s life.”
“Pshaw! It’s you who’s the flatterer, young man,” Milly retorted, beaming with pleasure. “Which makes me wonder all the more why you haven’t been snapped up by now. Haven’t you wondered the same thing, Jessie?”
This time Jessie dropped her fork. Hardly registering the clatter as it struck her plate, she stared aghast at Milly. The woman gazed back at her innocently, as if she weren’t brazenly trying to play matchmaker.
Jessie heard Tye smother a chuckle beside her; at the head of the table, Charles Cooper cleared his throat loudly. Glancing at him with her face ablaze, Jessie saw him glower at his wife. Wondering how Milly could do this to her, she longed to sink into the floor.
“I don’t believe Miss Devlin considers me a good match for any woman,” David drawled, attracting her unwilling gaze.
The amusement in his eyes sent her temper soaring. “Indeed, sir, I’d pity the poor colleen who had the misfortune to be your wife!”
He laughed softly, making her quiver with anger.
“Och, Jess, ye look mad enough to spit nails!” Tye chortled. “How can ye say such a thing after the man saved your life? And might I remind ye --”
Fearing what he might blurt out, Jessie kicked him under the table, drawing a pained grunt from him. “Hush, ye brainless idjit! I don’t need ye to remind me of anything.”
“Dear me!” Milly exclaimed. “Now I’ve caused a fuss with my foolish questions. Please forgive me, everyone. Especially you, Captain.”
“Don’t let it worry you, ma’am,” David replied, watching Jessie pick up her fork and stab at her food. God, she was beautiful with her face flushed and her breasts rising and falling so temptingly with her angry, rapid breathing. He’d deliberately baited her a moment ago to distract her from her embarrassment over Mrs. Cooper’s obvious matchmaking, but also for the pure pleasure of seeing her like this, he admitted.
Attempting to divert his thoughts, he asked Charles Cooper how things were going down at the store, but as he listened to the man’s reply, his senses remained tuned to Jessie. When they rose from the table a short time later, he impulsively announced, “I’m going for a walk. Would you care to join me, Miss Devlin?”
She stared at him, mouth agape. Obviously, this was the last thing she expected from him after the way he’d treated her.
This afternoon, hearing her voice tremble and watching her dash from the parlor to get away from him, David had taken a hard look at his behavior, and he hadn’t liked what he saw. Over the past few days he’d gone half loco with desire for Jessie, tormented by her touch when she attended to his needs, surrounded by her sweet scent, yearning to caress her womanly curves. He’d had to fight constantly to keep his hands off her, acting like a caged bear and hurting her in the process. That had never been his intention, and he needed to tell her so.
“I . . . I have to help clear up,” she stammered in reply, gesturing at the cluttered table.
“Nonsense, dear! I’ll do that,” Milly Cooper said hastily. “You go along with the captain. He might tire and need assistance. We don’t want anything to set back his recovery, now do we?”
David rubbed his mouth, hiding a wry smile. The woman’s scheme to drop a rope around the two of them served his purpose just now, although it stood no chance of success. He wasn’t about to marry Jessie Devlin. No matter how much he desired her, she was still all wrong for him. He only wanted to set matters straight between them, nothing more.
Seeing Jessie’s trapped expression, he slanted her a challenging grin. As he expected, her chin instantly lifted in defiance.
“No, we certainly wouldn’t want that,” she replied tartly, bluebonnet eyes flashing.
Seconds later, she walked beside him in the street, maintaining a goodly space between them. The ground was still a little muddy in places after the day’s rain, and David considered offering Jessie his good arm to lean on, but she’d likely reject his help. Not that he would blame her, he ruefully conceded.
“Nice evening,” he remarked. The air held a rain-washed, fresh-as-heaven scent, and the darkening sky glowed red-purple on the horizon. Soon it would look like blue velvet dotted with diamonds, the kind of sky he’d loved to lie under when he was a boy, dreaming of all the places he meant to see when he grew up. Now, home was the only place he dreamed of seeing.
“Aye, nice,” Jessie muttered.
“Should be a lot of stars out later.”
“Mmm.” She glanced upward briefly, rubbing her arms – from nervousness, he bet, since it wasn’t the least bit cold out.
Abandoning casual conversation, David reached for Jessie’s elbow and drew her to a halt. She caught her breath and turned to gaze at him, her eyes appearing black in the dim light. He longed to pull her close and erase all the built-up hostility between them with tender kisses, but he smothered the urge, telling himself it would only complicate matters. He had to be practical about this.
“Look, Jessie, I’m fit enough to travel. Tomorrow I’ll make arrangements for us to move on. But before we do, I’d like to set things right with you. It would make the trip a might easier, and I . . . I don’t want us to part with hard feelings between us.”
She continued to stare at him for a moment; then she bent her head. “No hard feelings. Aye, I see,” she said in a flat tone.
He frowned at her odd reaction. “I’ve, uh, been short-tempered with you, I know. And the other morning, when I kissed you . . . well, you were right. I shouldn’t have done that. Anyway, I’m sorry for all of it, and I’m grateful to you for staying on here to take care of me.”
She was silent for so long that he wondered if she would reply, but she finally looked up and shrugged. “As I’ve said before, I wanted to repay ye for saving my life. And I accept your apology, just as I hope you’ll accept mine for the harm I caused ye.” Taking an uneven breath, she smiled woodenly. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I think we’d best be getting back.”
Sensing there was something very wrong here, David didn’t move; nor did he release her arm when she tried to turn away. She stared at him with her lips pressed tightly together, as if to stop them from trembling.
“What is it, Jessie? What did I say to upset you now?”
She turned her face away. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded thin and brittle. “You’re imagining things. I’m not upset a’tall.”
He ground his teeth in frustration. “Is that so? And I suppose I imagined how flustered you were at the table a while ago, too.”
She immediately bristled. “No, that ye didn’t. I don’t enjoy
being made sport of.” Twisting her arm free of his grasp, she backed up a step and tossed her head. “And I’ll not have anyone playing matchmaker for me.”
Relieved to see her temper resurface, he laughed. “Can’t say I cared much for that either, but the lady means well.” He massaged his right arm above the sling. The shoulder ached like hell and, much as he hated to admit it, he was done in from being on his feet too long after spending days flat on his back. Naturally, Jessie noticed his discomfort.
“We really should be getting back,” she said stiffly. “You oughtn’t to tax yourself. And I’m a wee bit weary myself.” Not waiting for a reply, she turned and started back, leaving him to follow her with dissatisfaction gnawing at his gut.
* * *
A little past mid-morning the next day, David strode up the path to the Coopers’ whitewashed house, feeling almost himself except for a dull ache in his shoulder and the annoyance of having his arm trussed up in a sling. It was a cool, crisp morning, a nice change from the heat, and he was in a good mood. He’d secured seats on tomorrow night’s westbound train for himself and the Devlins, at no extra cost thanks to orders left by their erstwhile conductor, Higgins.
After that, he’d taken care of another chore, paying a call on the town marshal to give his account of the incident with Wolf Gerard, as Jessie had already done. By rights they ought to stick around for the buffalo skinner’s trial, but since the circuit judge wasn’t due in town for another week, the lawman had settled for their written testimony. David figured it should put Gerard behind bars for a few years at least.
His next stop had been Cooper’s Emporium to let Tye Devlin know they’d be leaving tomorrow. That’s where he’d come up with his plan to surprise Jessie. Eager to put it into action, he entered the house with two packages tucked under his arm. The small one was a bottle of French toilet water for Milly Cooper; the larger one was for Jessie.
Finding the parlor empty, David laid his hat and packages on a chair then headed across the hall to the kitchen. The swinging door squeaked when he pushed it open. Pausing, he took in the room’s spicy aroma and pleasant scenery -- Jessie with her back to him, bent over in front of the cast iron stove, lifting a pie from the oven. She’d left her hair down again, allowing him to admire the silky, red-brown locks. Then he grinned at the sight of her sweetly rounded bottom outlined beneath the brown calico gown he recalled from their first meeting. Leaning against the door, he waited for her to notice him.
Jessie heard the door open but didn’t pause to look around as she hurried over to the window ledge. “The pies are done, Milly,” she called over her shoulder, setting the steaming apple pie to cool beside its twin. “But what are ye doing back so soon? I thought ye planned to spend the whole morning at Mrs. Schmidt’s.”
At that point she turned around. “Oh! ’Tis you!” The sight of David standing there, looking so dashing in his uniform made her pulse leap. “I thought ye were Milly.”
“Disappointed?” he teased with a grin, letting the door swing shut. As she groped for an answer, he strode over to her and took hold of her arm. “Come with me.”
Alarmed, she resisted the tug of his hand. “Here now, what are ye doing? Let me go!”
He heaved an exasperated sigh but released her. “I’m not aiming to drag you off and have my way with you, Jessie,” he said dryly. “I only want to show you something in the parlor. Now, will you come with me, please?”
Not quite trusting him, she eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding. “Very well, since ye put it that way.”
Gesturing for her to lead the way, he followed her across the hall. Once in the parlor, she looked around but saw nothing unusual.
“Well, what are ye so anxious to show me?”
Without a word, he stepped up behind her and tugged on her apron strings. She gave a startled yelp and whirled around as he pulled the flour-smudged apron off of her. Certain he was about to break his word and attempt to ravish her, she shot a wild glance at the hallway behind him. Then he dropped her apron on a nearby chair and picked up a parcel that had been lying there. It was wrapped in brown paper and bound with red ribbon.
“For you,” he said with a smile.
“Faith ’n begorra!” she blurted as he thrust the parcel into her hands. She stared agog at the gift, wondering if she’d fallen into a waking dream.
David chuckled at her reaction. “Call it a thank you for staying to take care of me, or an apology if you prefer. Go ahead, open it.”
“But . . . I don’t expect any thanks. And ye apologized last night.”
“Well then, maybe I just want to give a present to a pretty girl,” he drawled, smoky green eyes twinkling playfully.
She blushed, touching the red ribbon uncertainly. “But I don’t think, I mean I don’t know if . . . if ’twould be proper for me to accept.”
He frowned impatiently. “For God’s sake, Jessie, it’s only a small gift. And I don’t expect anything in return, if that’s what you’re worried about. So stop arguing and open it.”
She couldn’t bring herself to refuse. Heart fluttering with excitement, she ventured a tentative smile and untied the ribbon, feeling all thumbs beneath David’s watchful gaze. The brown paper fell open to reveal an ivory silk shawl.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. Letting the paper drop away, she unfolded the delicate wrap and held it up. The intricately woven threads shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the windows. “’Tis beautiful,” she breathed in awe.
“I’m glad you like it. But it’ll look more beautiful on you.”
Jessie gazed at him in speechless confusion. Last night he had crushed her already bruised heart with his insensitive prattle about not parting with ‘hard feelings’ between them. Later, she’d cried herself to sleep on her pallet, smothering her tears and praying Tye would not feel her distress. Now, after putting her through so much misery, David was suddenly paying her pretty compliments and giving her this wonderful gift. She simply did not understand him.
“Might as well try it on,” he said in a soft drawl that strummed at her heartstrings. When he was in a bad mood, which was most of the time with her, he spoke in a clipped manner, but when he wanted to be charming, he always returned to his slow, southern speech.
When Jessie hesitantly started to don the shawl, David unnerved her again by stepping behind her to gather up her hair and lift it aside. Tingling at the brush of his fingers against her sensitive nape, she drew an uneven breath as she slipped the shawl around her. He smoothed the silky material across her shoulders, and her heart skipped a beat. When his hand lingered to smooth her hair down her back, she trembled beneath his touch and longed to lean back against him.
“Turn around,” he commanded in a husky tone.
Pivoting slowly, she clutched the shawl tight across her breasts, trying to conceal their rapid rise and fall. She timidly glanced up at him. The approval in his smoky green eyes as he looked her over made her knees wobble. His familiar tantalizing scent further disturbed her senses.
“It was made for you, Jessie.” He lightly traced her arm with one fingertip, setting off electric pulses that coursed through her body.
“Th-thank you,” she stammered weakly.
He cleared his throat and gripped her elbow, giving her a start. “Come on. You haven’t seen the rest of my surprise.” Flashing a mysterious grin, he led her back into the hall.
Incapable of resistance, Jessie soon found herself on the front porch, staring blankly at a horse and buggy standing in the street.
“Your conveyance, ma’am,” David declared with a flourish.
She frowned at him, mystified. “Whatever d’ye mean? Why would I be needing a carriage?”
Scratching his chin, he cocked his head and drawled, “I dunno, I kinda figured you’d rather ride than walk when we go on our picnic.”
“Picnic!” Jessie parroted.
He grinned from ear to ear. “Yup. I thought we might try enjoying each other’s company
for once, especially since we’ll be leaving here tomorrow.”
Her stomach lurched. “Tomorrow?” she echoed again, faintly this time.
“Yes, ma’am. I got us seats on the evening train.”
“Oh.” The bright day suddenly dimmed. Jessie had wanted to get away from David as soon as possible after last night, to spare herself further pain, but now . . . .
“We’d better throw some food together or it won’t be much of a picnic.” Taking her agreement for granted, he tugged on her arm again, drawing her back inside.
“B-but I can’t go,” she argued half-heartedly. “I promised Milly I’d start the chicken roasting and . . . .”
CHAPTER SIX
Sitting with his back against the trunk of a spreading bur oak, David swatted away a curious fly with his hat. He had shed his coat in the afternoon warmth and was grateful for a light breeze as he watched Jessie’s expressive features and listened to her speak. She sat beside him with her legs demurely tucked under her, still wearing the silk shawl despite the rising heat. Seeing her caress the soft fabric, he smiled to himself, glad he’d given her the gift.
They had spread their blanket on a patch of grass dotted with wild flowers and backed by a thin stand of trees. Facing the broad, slow-moving PlatteRiver, the spot was secluded from the road to town, the reason David had chosen it. They’d eaten their hastily thrown together lunch of leftover pot roast, jonnycake and wild plums, washed down by lemonade, and so far they hadn’t barked at each other once. He wanted to keep it that way, friendly but not too friendly, for both their sakes.
He’d told Jessie about growing up on a ranch in Texas. In turn, she’d explained how her folks immigrated to this country back in ’49, during the Irish potato famine, and how they’d lived in New York City before eventually settling in Chicago. She’d lost her mother to typhoid fever three years ago, and her younger sister had entered a convent shortly thereafter. Jessie seemed reluctant to say more about that period in her life, and David didn’t press her for details.