Aware Krissa and Oscar were watching her―she could actually feel the smiles on their faces―Ryleigh took a deep breath and headed toward her room. She fumbled in her reticule, found the brass key, then unlocked the door and let herself in. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against the portal. Who would have thought one kiss could make her feel like this? Like she’d been missing something all her life?
One thing was certain. She wanted more!
Chapter Five
A day after his dinner at the Finches’ and the kiss he’d shared with Ryleigh, which he could still taste, Teague let himself into the kitchen of the home he grew up in on Primrose Lane and sniffed the air with appreciation. Mrs. Calvin had been baking today―a peach pie, judging by the aroma still lingering in the room. Maybe it was a peach cobbler. Or some other mouth-watering dessert made with peaches. That would be fine with him.
He’d been thinking about peaches a lot lately. Not only was the tree in the yard full of the ripe, juicy fruit, much like everyone else’s in town, but the scent seemed to linger whenever he happened to cross paths with a certain female journalist. And he’d been crossing paths with her quite a bit. She seemed to be everywhere, her sunny smile forcing him to respond.
He looked at the table and the glass dish where a pie would have been kept, but the domed dish was empty. He turned toward the window above the sink. Sometimes, Mrs. Calvin left the pie cooling on the sill over the porcelain basin. The window was open, the ivy-patterned curtains fluttering in the breeze, but no pie. He checked the icebox. Still no pie.
And where was Mrs. Calvin? She should have been putting the finishing touches on dinner and preparing to put the meal on the table. It was half-past six. His stomach growled, reminding him that they always had dinner at this time.
And Desi Lyn? Where was she? His niece should have been here, her chatter filling the big room as she set the table, but the kitchen was empty. Immediately, his stomach clenched, and his senses went on alert.
It was difficult being a lawman, more so if one had a family. He never knew if he would still be among the living when the sun went down or if an outlaw would hold his someday wife or children hostage. It was a fear he lived with every day, and after seeing what he had, one that was very real.
Beside him, Shotgun whined as he lifted his nose and smelled the air. “Go on, Shotgun. Find Desi.” The dog whined again, then trotted through the house, his nails clicking on the floor as he went to find his companion in mischief . . . and maybe a small sample of something sweet.
As he followed the dog down the hall, he heard laughter coming from the parlor at the front of the house and the delicate clink of fine china. Mrs. Calvin was entertaining in the parlor? That was unusual. Though she had many friends in town, not to mention her son and daughter-in-law, she’d never invited anyone into the parlor when friends visited. It was always the kitchen, the place she felt most at home.
He stepped into the parlor and stopped short as his gaze went from Mrs. Calvin to Ryleigh, sitting comfortably in his favorite chair.
Mrs. Calvin flushed as she rose from her seat, then glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner as he stepped farther into the room. “Oh, dear! Is that the time? I haven’t even started dinner!”
He was about to reply when Desi Lyn jumped up from the floor and ran to him, Shotgun dogging her heels. “Look what Miss Ryleigh brought me!” She held out a book. Teague read the cover. Heidi by Johanna Spyri, a book he had wanted to order from the general store, but hadn’t gotten around to yet.
He turned his attention to Ryleigh. He hadn’t thought to run into her again so quickly, but he had to admit, he wanted to. The taste of her kiss still lingered on his lips. His gaze went from her to Mrs. Calvin then back to her. Was that a guilty flush staining her cheeks or just the perpetual glow he noticed she wore when she was around him? Suspicion settled in his gut. He could only guess what they’d been talking about before he came in. “You.”
She rose to her feet quickly and walked toward him, her hand extended. “I hope you don’t mind. I promised Desi Lyn I’d bring her the book I spoke about at dinner last night.”
One moment, she was striding toward him, beautiful and poised in her bright yellow gown, the next, she was stumbling over the ottoman to once again end up in his arms, her body pressed tight against his. His niece giggled while Mrs. Calvin just stood there, her mouth gaping, unsure of what to do. Shotgun barked, his tail wagging furiously, sweeping the skirts of both Ryleigh and Desi Lyn.
A startled gasp escaped her, and her eyes opened wide as he looked down at her. His grin widened, despite the belief she and Mrs. Calvin had been talking about him. “So it’s not only fruit wagons that accost you in broad daylight. It’s ottomans, too.”
Her mouth transformed from a surprised O to a brilliant smile. “So it would seem. I’ll have to add it to my list of things to stay away from.” And then she laughed, the sound sultry and inviting to his ears, and the inclination to kiss those tempting lips nearly overwhelmed him.
Caution made him think twice even as the scent of ripe, juicy peaches infiltrated his brain. He’d already been thinking about her more than he should. He released his hold on her after making sure she stood firmly on her own two feet, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and warning bells sounded in his brain. She was entirely too beautiful for his peace of mind.
Flustered by his growing, unreasonable attraction, he cleared his throat and found the restraint to turn away from her. “Well, then, since dinner hasn’t been started, shall we dine at the Prentice? Or perhaps, the Carlisle Cottage? Maybe Mrs. Dunleavy’s?”
“Mrs. Dunleavy’s.” Desi Lyn responded, then grabbed his hand and pulled him down to her level. “Can Miss Ryleigh come, too?”
He looked over the girl’s head, and his eyes met Ryleigh’s. The blush on her cheeks seemed to have taken up permanent residence. He couldn’t help himself and offered an invitation. “Of course, if she would like.”
“That would be lovely. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
He shook his head as he rose to his full height. “I don’t mind.” He turned away from those intoxicating eyes because he had to and directed his attention to his niece. “Desi Lyn, did you want to bring Emily?”
The little girl shook her head. “Emily is sleeping.”
Mrs. Calvin spoke up then. “Actually, Emily’s leg finally fell off.”
Teague caught the horrified expression on Ryleigh’s face and laughed as he explained. “Emily is Desi Lyn’s doll. Actually, she’s the third Emily. Desi loved the stuffing out of the first two.”
“Ah, I see. I, too, had an Emily when I was growing up. Except her name was Mrs. Peabody.”
“Shall we?”
As they made their way to Mrs. Dunleavy’s restaurant, Teague became acutely aware of the picture they presented to the neighbors they passed―he held Desi Lyn’s hand on one side, and Ryleigh had her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow on the other, for no other reason than to save her from a potential misstep. At least, that’s what he told himself. Mrs. Calvin and Shotgun stayed a step or two behind. They looked like any ordinary family out for an evening stroll. He sucked in his breath. The gossips would fall all over themselves with this. He imagined the conversations over back fences yet to come.
They reached the restaurant, and Teague opened the door. Shotgun took two steps toward the opening, his tail wagging, as if fully intending to join them. Teague chuckled. “No, Shotgun, you can’t come in. Stay.”
The dog sank to the sidewalk with a sigh that showed his disappointment, his ears back, tail slowly sweeping the dust from the walkway. “I’ll bring you a bone, all right?” he said as he escorted Ryleigh, Desi Lyn, and Mrs. Calvin inside the building. As soon as he closed the door behind him, the noise from the diners in the restaurant died, leaving a moment of silence as every eye turned toward them.
Mrs. Dunleavy, apron tied around her ample waist, rushed forward and showed them to a table
, gesturing to the chair she wished him to take. He took off his hat and placed it on the spindle of Desi Lyn’s chair, then took his seat, once again, directly across from Ryleigh. Apparently, Mrs. Dunleavy belonged to the brigade of folks who thought he’d been alone too long. The apple-cheeked woman grinned at him as she listed the specials for the day, then took their order before bustling off to the kitchen. She was back in a minute with their drinks, then disappeared again, her footsteps heavy but quick.
Teague took a sip of his lemonade. Over the rim of the glass, he became conscious of the amused grins and knowing smiles coming to him from the other patrons. He did his best to ignore them, though it was difficult, and turned his attention to the woman across from him, but she had already engaged his niece in conversation. He didn’t interrupt, but he did listen and watch, noticing how animated and downright charming she was.
“Do you like school, Desi Lyn?”
The little girl nodded. “Miss Trahern is a good teacher. She makes it fun.”
Oh, he did like her. Yes, she was brash and bold, and her reasons for being here in Paradise Falls were enough to make his stomach tighten, but she was also very sweet, especially to his niece. Her statement that she loved children wasn’t just talk, as evidenced by the lively conversation she had with Desi Lyn, who seemed to absorb every word from her mouth.
He gave a small groan. His niece, at six years old, was already too impressionable and independent for his tastes. In truth, he wanted that independence for her, but not quite so fast. And she was smart, smarter than him and his brothers combined. Perhaps that was due to him. He hoped so.
He’d always had a fondness for reading and hoped Desi Lyn developed an affinity for it as well. Toward that end, each night, before he put her to bed, he read to her. They were almost finished with Anna Sewell’s Black Beauty, which she was enjoying, and there were several other novels waiting to be read, including the one Ryleigh had just given her. She could read as well, much better than he could at her age.
“Did you like school, Miss Ryleigh?”
“Very much so. I was taught by the good sisters at St. Mary of the Blessed Heart, but even before I went to school, I was reading.” A wistfulness crept into her expression, but she didn’t lose her smile. “My grandfather taught me. He always had a book in his hands. He liked history, but he also liked Mark Twain and Jules Verne. His favorite was Around the World in Eighty Days.”
The little girl nodded, her grin wide, missing tooth and all. “Uncle T read that to me. I liked it, but I like Black Beauty better. I love horses.” She took a breath and fiddled with her place setting. Teague very gently laid his hand over hers so she’d stop. “I have a horse. Her name is Silver Belle. She lives at the ranch with Uncle Shep and Aunt Malva.” She chose one of the biscuits from a basket on the table and took a big bite.
Teague knew another moment of pride when she swallowed and wiped her mouth with her napkin before she spoke again. “Uncle T said I could go to college when I’m older.”
“And you should.” Ryleigh nodded as a smile crinkled the corners of her eyes.
“Did you go?”
“Yes, I did. I went to Vassar.” Her attention drifted from Desi Lyn to him, and once again, she flashed that smile that did things to his insides. “I even wrote for the school newspaper. I loved it, and I learned so much.”
Conversation ceased when Mrs. Dunleavy brought their dinners. He pulled Desi Lyn’s plate closer and cut her meat into small bites and tried his best to focus on his niece, but he failed.
He caught Mrs. Calvin’s grin across the table as she dug into her roast sirloin, though she tried to hide it. Apparently, the woman liked Ryleigh and approved of how she drew Desi Lyn into conversation. He already knew that his niece liked her. So did Nate and Celia, Krissa and Oscar. How many others? He wouldn’t be surprised if it was the whole town.
Oh, this was a mistake. He shouldn’t be sitting across from her again. Or sharing dinner with her. Or even talking to her. What was wrong with him? Was he asking for trouble? Looking for it?
He had enough already with Jeff Logan’s forthcoming release from prison, the thought of which made his stomach clench. He didn’t need to borrow more.
A sigh escaped him as he added butter to his baked potato. I am borrowing trouble. Not only did he like Ryleigh, but he respected her as well. She had determination and persistence, two traits he found admirable, and they probably stood her in good stead. She was funny, too. And self-deprecating. She’d be a catch for any man looking for marriage. Well, maybe not any man. Someone who was immune to her clumsiness. Or found it charming, like he did. So why wasn’t she married? Why hadn’t someone seen her vivacious appeal and slipped a ring on her finger?
And suddenly, he had to know.
He looked up from his T-bone steak. “Why aren’t you married?”
Mrs. Calvin stifled a laugh and nearly choked on her lemonade.
Ryleigh chuckled, her eyes opening wide. “Now look who’s being nosy.”
The question was inappropriate, especially in mixed company. He was delving into hazardous territory, but even that knowledge didn’t stop him. He grinned, caught once again in the radiance of her smile. “Two can play your game. So answer.”
She flushed, the color rising up her smooth cheeks as she placed her fork and knife on her plate. “Answer what?”
“Why aren’t you married?”
“No one ever asked me.” She drew in her breath, then picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth.
“I find that hard to believe.” The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them, and his face grew hot with embarrassment. He glanced at Mrs. Calvin, who suddenly found the pattern on her plate interesting. She didn’t look at him, but he could see the grin on her face and her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
“Oh, no, it’s true. No one has ever asked me. According to my father, these are the reasons.” She lifted a slender hand and counted them off on her fingers, one by one. “I think I told you before that he doesn’t appreciate my attitude. I’m opinionated. I’m headstrong. I believe in the suffragette movement, and I believe women should have choices. I’m much too nosy. I can be brutally honest. And, as you’ve witnessed, there is no way I would ever be described as graceful.” She grinned then, the flush on her face becoming deeper. “I’ve been told I’m too tall, too.”
Surprised by her honest admission and the reasons she listed, though she forgot to mention pushy, Teague just stared at her, unsure of what to say, afraid of stepping further into the quagmire of his own creation, but the inclination to refute the statements she cited rose within him. Perhaps all that was true in San Francisco and the society she’d grown up in, but it certainly wasn’t the case with him. He prized honesty, and as far as being opinionated went, well, most of his friends were that way.
Ah, hell!
“Your father is wrong. Yes, you may be accident-prone, but you’re also intelligent, pretty as the sunlight coming over the mountain top, and for all your nosiness, you seem to be kind.” Remembering the kiss they’d shared and how she fit so perfectly in his arms, heat rushed to his face. “As for you being too tall, I . . . uh . . . I think you’re the perfect height.”
Ryleigh laughed, and the sound settled in his belly, where it always did, and her eyes glowed with good humor, obviously unaffected by her father’s judgment and pleased with his response.
• • •
He thinks I’m pretty? And smart? And not too tall? Does he really mean it? Or is he just saying it?
Ryleigh stared at him across the table, her breath caught in her lungs, unsure if she should believe him or not, but there was nothing in his eyes or in his expression that said he lied. Indeed, the blush on his cheeks indicated that he had told the truth, almost reluctantly.
Warmth suffused her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and her heart fluttered in her chest, but this time, she knew there was no medical reason for it. The
re would be no need to call upon Dr. Finch and risk embarrassing herself. She’d finally realized, after much deliberation and reflection, the cause for the erratic beating of her heart could only be Teague and her attraction to him, and for a moment, there was no one else in the dining room except them. The voices of the other diners faded to a low buzz. Or perhaps that sound was just her imagination, along with the compliments he’d paid her and the desire to kiss him, in front of God and everyone.
“You folks ready for dessert?” Mrs. Dunleavy approached their table and saved her from having to respond to his comments at all or act upon the sudden rush of longing that sprang to life within her. No one had ever said such nice things about her before, though her mother had always insisted she was beautiful.
Mrs. Dunleavy started clearing the dirty dishes away. “I have peach ice cream, chocolate cake, apple pie, or custard.”
“Ice cream!” Desi Lyn shouted, drawing a huge smile from Mrs. Dunleavy.
“Good choice, Miss Desi.”
“I’ll have the pie,” Mrs. Calvin said, then added, “with a slice of cheddar on it and a cup of coffee if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, Ada. Miss Ryleigh, what would you like?”
“Chocolate cake,” she murmured, although she wasn’t sure she could taste it. There was just too much Teague in her head. He smiled that lopsided grin at her, and she swallowed hard, her world tilting just a little.
“I’ll have the ice cream as well, Mrs. Dunleavy.” He pointed to the plate in her hand and the remains of his T-Bone. “And would you wrap up that bone for Shotgun?”
She grinned. “Was going to do that anyway.” In short order, she had whisked the dirty dishes away and brought dessert, as well as the paper-wrapped bone. Ryleigh sank her fork into the thick slab of chocolate cake, her mouth beginning to water.
A Kiss in the Sunlight Page 7