by Laura Drewry
Just as he’d hoped, that got her going. Fire sparked behind her eyes; her hands balled into tight fists.
“You can never allow me? And who are you to decide what I can and cannot do – my father?”
“No, thank God.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He traced the line of her lips with his finger, feeling her tremble. Just once, and only slightly, but it was something. “It means if I was your father, I’d burn in hell for the things I’m thinking about you right now.”
Her skin flamed, her eyes widened. Then she tipped her head to the side and smiled coyly.
“Really?” she asked. “And what is it that you’re thinking right now?”
“Oh, no, Miss Joanna,” he laughed. “You’re not going to get me started and then make me stop when it gets too hot for you in that dress.”
“I’m already hot, Travers,” she answered in a low, sexy voice. “And I’m not the one who keeps stopping things, remember?”
God, how he wanted to haul her upstairs and wipe that teasing little smile off her lips; those lips she could drive him crazy with just by pressing them against his neck.
“Besides,” Joanna shot him a wink. “I will not be charmed out of this dress, Travers. In fact, I may never take it off.”
“Oh, you’ll take it off all right. And you’ll take it off tonight. For me.” He slipped her hand beneath his elbow and guided her toward the parlor door.
She pulled back, a tiny flicker of panic crossing her face. “But you said we’d wait until after we were married. Until after LeeAnna’s baby was born.” Her lip began to tremble. “You said--”
“Will you shut up and let me finish?”
She pressed her lips together, her fingers fidgeting at her waist until he stilled them in his own hands.
“One of Pearson’s men rode over this morning, seems she had the baby yesterday. A boy.”
Joanna blanched.
“And now we have proof he’s not my son.” He lifted her chin and placed a soft kiss on her trembling lips. “Apparently, the kid’s got a head full of fire-red curls.”
Joanna gasped. “You mean. . .”
Levi nodded. “Always knew Carlson was a lying bastard. And now everyone else knows, too.”
It was a rare moment that caught Joanna speechless, but this was one.
“So that’s behind us,” Levi continued. “Now we just need to focus on the other problem.”
“W-what other problem?” Her eyes shimmered, but she blinked back the tears.
“The problem,” he whispered against her cheek, “of us getting married. Quick. Tonight.”
“T-tonight?”
“God yes. Surely there’s a preacher out there among all those people somewhere.”
“Well, yes, there should be, but--”
“But nothing, Miss Joanna.” He brought her fingers up to his mouth and kissed each one. Slowly. “After seeing you in that dress, the only other thing I want to see is you out of that dress.”
“Oh Lord,” she whimpered. “You’re killing me, Travers.”
“Levi.”
“Fine, Levi. Let’s go find us a preacher.”
He must have looked like some kind of fool with a grin that big on his face, but what did he care? He held the door open for her, then repositioned her hand beneath his elbow.
Mac and Ginny met them on the porch, Ginny’s eyes brimming.
“You look wonderful,” she whispered.
Levi puffed his chest out. “Thank you, Ginny. Wasn’t sure if I should wear the tie or not, but Joanna seems to like it, so what the hell.”
Even Mac smiled as he rolled his eyes. “I believe she was talking to her niece, Travers.”
“Oh her. Right, of course.” He shot Joanna a wink. “Yeah, I guess she looks pretty good, too.”
The color flooding Joanna’s face only made her more beautiful, but true to form, she retaliated with a pinch to the inside of his arm.
Her grip loosened and a teasing glint shone in her eyes. “You’d best behave yourself, Mr. Travers. I’d hate to have to hurt you in front of the whole town.”
He met her challenging gaze. “Behave myself? With you in that dress? I don’t think so, sweetheart.”
She laughed at him, but her whole face flushed again. He led her down the stairs toward the over-burdened tables.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked. He could use a whole bottle of Jack Daniels himself.
“Yes, please.” As they neared the crowded tables, her fingers tightened slightly on his arm. The laughter that had danced in her eyes just moments ago vanished, replaced with guarded apprehension.
“It’s okay,” he whispered behind his smile. Damn, he’d like to do something for her to ease her nerves. But what?
“There’s so many people here.” Her voice trembled slightly.
Levi moved so he stood directly in front of her. Her gaze darted around the crowds, never settling on one person for more than a second or two.
“Look at me,” he said. Of course she didn’t. So he repeated it, a bit louder. “Look at me, Joanna.”
Reluctantly, she met his gaze. For a moment he thought she was going to turn and run back into the house. He couldn’t let that happen.
He itched to take her hand, but God only knew what kind of stir that would cause. It was one thing to do it when they were alone, but out among the crowds was a completely different game. Until that preacher showed up, anyway.
“You’re Joanna McCaine,” he began. “You’re intelligent, strong, and once in a while you’re actually funny.” He winked. “But without question, you are the most beautiful woman here.”
When she made to interrupt, he held up a hand to stop her.
“And that includes your sister.” He lowered his voice. “You should see yourself, Miss Joanna. You take a man’s breath away.”
“You’re just saying that so I’ll stay and dance with you.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but at least she was smiling again. “And so you can peel this dress off me later.”
“Wrong.” He wished he could kiss her - right there for everyone to see. “You clear knock the air from my lungs every time I look at you.”
Green eyes, as big as dishplates, stared back in shock.
“It’s true,” he continued. “Even up to your elbows in mud, you were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.”
“I. . .”
“Don’t say it.” He smiled, mostly to ease the frightened look from her face. “We’ve got the rest of the night for you to tell me how handsome I am.”
Her laughter sang into the air. “Charming and modest. You’re quite the man, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he nodded through his grin. “I am. Good of you to finally notice.”
“Joanna McCaine – is that you?” An older woman with a face full of wrinkles and eyes the color of moss, stared open-mouthed at Jo.
“Hello, Mrs. Burke.” Joanna’s smile never reached her eyes. “It’s so good to see you.”
“I. . .I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.” The woman’s face clouded, almost as though she didn’t believe what she was seeing.
“It’s been a while,” Jo agreed. The look she shot Levi made him want to gag the old woman, but before he could move, Mrs. Burke went and made it worse.
“Audrey,” she called over her shoulder. “Come and look at this – it’s Joanna! In a dress!”
Levi cringed, but could do little more than offer a supportive smile. Color crept up Joanna’s neck and over her face.
Audrey Brooks walked over, dragging Big Bill behind her. “Joanna McCaine?” she repeated. “In a dress?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Burke nodded. “Look!”
And look they did. First it was Audrey and Big Bill, then Maggie from the restaurant in town, and then Jimmy and Simon, who nearly tripped over their own jaws.
Joanna’s cheeks pinched inward, her smile a mere grimace.
“Oh, look,” Levi sputt
ered. “There’s Will. Excuse us, won’t you?” He took her arm and hurried away across the yard, over the dance floor, and toward another table loaded down with a huge punch bowl and dozens of mismatched glasses.
“Well, that was fun.” Joanna downed a glass of punch in one gulp, then reached for another.
“Sorry,” Levi said. “I had no idea.”
She inhaled a long breath, took another drink and frowned. “I did.”
“Maybe I should have gone with the brown potato sack like I wanted to in the first place.”
A small smile lifted her lips. “Or maybe we should have just forgotten this whole thing.”
“Not a chance, sweetheart. Look at you!”
“I don’t have to,” she grimaced. “Everyone else is doing enough of that for me.”
“Well,” he said with a low chuckle. “What did you expect? I don’t think any of them ever stopped to notice how beautiful you are – you shocked the hell out of them.”
“I hardly think. . .”
“Stop thinking.” He stared into her eyes, now filled with uncertainty. “Trust me. You’re the most beautiful thing this town’s ever seen, and you’re all mine.”
“I can hear the talk already. . .”
He cut her off with a raised hand. “The only talk will be about how you took a perfectly worthless man and turned him respectable.” When Joanna continued to look doubtful, he continued. “Hell, Miss Joanna, everyone in this town will think you’re some kind of miracle worker.”
“But I haven’t done anything.”
“You’ve done everything.”
They finished their drinks slowly, glancing over their glasses at each other. Heat began to coil in his belly. He needed a distraction; something to make him stop staring into those eyes, something to make him stop wanting to kiss the breath out of her and something to make him stop wanting to pull that dress off her.
“Ready?” he asked. He pried the glass from her fingers and set it back on the table.
“No.”
“Come on, Joanna. The worst is over.”
She snorted. Even all dressed up and looking like an angel, she could still snort.
“I’ll stay right beside you all night. If someone even thinks of upsetting you, I’ll have you out of there in a heartbeat.”
With a short nod, her lips curled up into something that resembled more of a snarl than a smile.
“Good.”
Levi tucked her hand under his arm again and strolled out through the crowd again.
“First things first,” he said. “I’m supposed to warn Carrie when we see – what’s her name? Big girl in a white dress – the Carlson girl she talks about all the time.”
“Milly Jean.”
He snapped his fingers. “That’s it. Milly Jean Carlson. Might have to track down her brother, too. There’s a few words I’d like to share with him.”
Truth be told, he’d like to plant his fist into Peter Carlson’s face again and finish what he started back at Lefty’s.
CHAPTER 13
Jo marveled at the way Levi moved her through the crowd; always time for polite conversation, but never staying a second longer than necessary. Friendly, attentive and courteous, he seemed to ignore the stares and whispers that followed his every move. Or was it her every move?
Newt limped toward them, his arthritic fingers curled around the top of a make-shift cane. Even though he lived in the bunkhouse, Jo hadn’t seen him in more days than she should admit. In his condition, she should have checked on him more often.
“Joey.” His pale blue eyes disappeared behind a row of wrinkles. “You look good ‘nuff to eat.”
“And you’re full of malarkey.” She took his free hand in hers and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Like hell,” he muttered. “First time I been outta bed in a week.”
“I’m sorry, Newt,” she said. “I had no idea.”
“What’re you sorry for?” he shrugged. “Not you’re fault I’m old. ‘Sides, Clay kept me company.” His gaze shifted to Levi, then back to Jo. “Kept me informed, too.”
Even though Travers stood there grinning like an idiot, Jo felt the flush wash over her.
“Yes,” she said, then cleared her throat. “I’m sure he did. Can I get you a chair?”
“You’ll do no such thing.” His smile faded, but not the affection shining in his face. “Don’t need no dame cluckin’ over me like an old mother hen.”
Jo laughed at his protest. No one loved to be clucked over more than Newt. And no one liked to stick their nose into her business more than Newt, either.
“You be nice to our Joey,” he said to Levi, his creaky voice steady. “Got that?”
“Got it.”
“Won’t have being treated like any of your other girls.”
“Wouldn’t do that, Newt.” Levi’s expression never flinched – he neither smiled nor frowned, but held Newt’s gaze when he spoke. “Joanna’s different.”
“Damn right she’s diff’rent. Ain’t no one like our Joey.” Newt crooked a finger at Levi, his voice a low warning. “If I hear you’ve been messin’ with her, you’ll be sorry you was ever born, got that, Junior?”
If Jo didn’t know better, she’d have thought Levi almost looked humbled. But Levi Travers had never been humbled in his life. Had he?
“Newt.” She put her hand on his arm, but Levi interrupted.
“Got it.” He offered a slight nod and a grin. “But I appreciate the warning.”
“Good.” Newt glanced around the milling crowd. “Now you listen to me. If Peter Carlson so much as looks at her sideways, I’m holdin’ you personally responsible. I won’t have our Joey bein’ upset by that little weasel again.”
“Oh, Newt.” Jo put her arms around his shoulder and hugged him tight. “You’re such a sweetheart.”
“Now cut that out.” He struggled out of her embrace and pretended to adjust his vest. Behind his wiry gray beard, his cheeks turned decidedly pink. Levi looked on with a strange, warm, faraway look in his eyes.
“Can I get you a drink?” Jo asked. “Or something to eat, maybe?”
“Dames,” Newt muttered. “I telled you before – I don’t need to be clucked over. ‘Sides, I hear the Widow Burke is here.” He waggled his straggly brows at her and limped off toward the tables.
Jo watched after him for as long as she could before the heat from Levi’s gaze forced her to turn and face him.
“I’m sorry about Newt,” she said. “He gets a little protective sometimes.”
Levi shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Don’t be sorry. He’s a good man and there aren’t many of us left.”
Jo opened her mouth to reply, then saw the twinkle in his eye and snapped it shut.
Good man, her big toe. Newt might be one, but Travers? He was only after one thing – and she was it.
“Come on.” Levi laughed, taking her by the arm. “Let’s eat or something. When does the music start, anyway?”
“I don’t know.” Jo took three steps and stopped. About a hundred feet in front of them stood Peter and Milly Jean Carlson.
Levi turned, a questioning look on his face.
Jo indicated the Carlsons with a short nod. “They’re here.”
Levi shifted his gaze to where she had indicated. His eyes widened, then he shook his head.
“Carrie was right – that girl needs a bigger dress.” He spoke only loud enough for her to hear. “And him – he still looks like a weasel. But what d’you expect with hair like that? That poor kid of his doesn’t stand a chance.”
Jo snorted back a laugh. There had been a time when she thought Peter’s chaotic red curls were the cutest things she’d ever seen. Of course, she’d been ten years old at the time and had long since outgrown that notion.
Too bad he hadn’t outgrown the curls.
“Come on.” With his hand on her back, Levi pushed her toward the Carlsons. “Let’s go say hello.”
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“No.” She fought back, tried to drag her feet, then remembered her pretty new shoes and stopped.
Besides, Levi was very determined. He kept pushing her toward them, slowly, but steadily.
“Oh yes,” he whispered. “Just remember, I’ve been threatened with my life if I let Carlson say anything to upset you. And since I rather enjoy my life, I’m not about to do anything that would put it – or you – in jeopardy.”
All too soon, they stood face to face with the only two people in the county Jo despised.
Milly Jean, in her trademark white, offered a look of false shock as she looked Jo over.
“Joanna Belle McCaine – is that really you?” Her white blonde hair was tied back in a severe knot and her chubby face had been painted with far too much of her mother’s rouge.
The white dress was worse than any she’d worn before. Fitted through the bodice, she’d obviously gone without a corset again. Jo had never been one to wear the tortuous garment herself, but then she didn’t carry half the weight Milly Jean did. Lace and frills covered the too-low neckline and ran in strips down the length of the skirt. What on earth had she been thinking when she picked it out?
With a forced grin, Jo nodded. “It’s me all right, Milly Jean. Don’t you look. . .what I mean is. . .your dress. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Levi poked her discreetly in the ribs, but she didn’t flinch, just bit the inside of her cheek.
“Yes.” Milly Jean smiled in conceited agreement. “As soon as I saw it, I told Papa I had to have it. It’s from New York.” She twirled in a circle, then leaned closer to Jo. “Your dress is an interesting choice. The color is a little too bold, but perhaps once you get used to dressing like a girl again, you’ll have a better idea of which shades and styles look best with your coloring and shape.”
If Levi hadn’t stepped between them, Jo would have told Milly Jean exactly what she could do with her shapes and styles.
“Name’s Levi Travers.” He didn’t offer his hand or even a bow. Just looked Milly Jean over with an unsatisfied eye.
“Travers,” Peter said coolly. “You’ll be keeping your distance from my sister.”
“Believe me, Carlson, your sister is perfectly safe.”
“You mean –-” Milly Jean gasped. “Levi Travers! Oh my Lord – and Joanna’s here with you?”