by Jodi Thomas
Lightning flashed again and the Donnely children woke up from their moment of silence. Henry and Abe had their hands full counting and boxing up as Mrs. Donnely screamed at them to finish or they’d be left behind.
When Abe had a second to look up, the schoolteacher had vanished. He’d probably think of what he wished he’d said to her tonight as he fought sleep. Now and then he’d concentrate on her face and will himself not to dream of the war. She might be about his age, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who would ever look at a man like him. No woman wanted to step out with a man who relied on a crutch when he walked beyond the walls of his store.
Ten minutes later, he locked the door behind the Donnelys and turned to Henry. “Go on home and have your supper. It’s late.” Abe pulled the shades down and turned off the lights as he heard Henry running out the back door.
Moving through the empty store, Abe knew just where to put his hand on a counter or shelf or pole so that his weak leg never had to take the weight when he walked. Outside he might be crippled, but in here he almost appeared to be walking.
Smiling, he remembered how his mother taught him the trick when the store was small. He’d never been sure if she wanted him to be independent or just needed him to move faster. After she died and he expanded the store, he made sure he could move about so there was little chance of falling.
As he turned out the last lamp, a sound came from the back behind the counter. His first horrible thought was that Mrs. Donnely had accidentally left one of her crew behind. Or had someone slipped in and hidden until he was alone, waiting to rob him? During the early years when Fort Worth was wild after the war, he’d been robbed twice. Both times he’d handed over the money. No danger, no amount of money, would be worth picking up a gun again. One robber had said he was sorry and left, but the second robbery had been committed by two men. They’d taken the money, beat him in the head with the side of a gun until he passed out, and then ran, leaving Abe bleeding badly.
The sheriff had mentioned the robbers were probably the Tanner brothers, the same men who had been caught for robbing trains of late. The paper said that though they could be tied to more than a dozen robberies, they had no money on them when apprehended. One report described them as ragged when they were hauled to jail by a Texas Ranger. The two brothers were either very poor robbers or terrible money managers.
After the second attack, Abe swore if he ever got robbed again, he’d at least fight.
Now, in the shadows of his store, he picked up an ax he kept leaning against the opening to the storage room and moved slowly toward the noise.
One hand braced the doorframe and the other held the ax high as he stepped into the back of his store. In the shadows between boxes he saw someone lifting a weapon.
Abe shifted his weight as the figure moved toward him. Just before he swung, the shadowy weapon lowered to the top of a box as if to pry it open and a frustrated huff whispered in the air. The big arms he’d seen became puffed sleeves and the tall form appeared shorter when he recognized the outline of a hat.
“Miss Norman?” Abe lowered the ax, not believing what he saw.
She turned toward him, a crowbar in her hand. “I’m only trying to help find my supplies.”
“No one is allowed back here.” He took the bar from her hand as if disarming her.
“The supplies have to be here. I can’t start school without them.” Her angry voice echoed his. “If you don’t have time, I’ll look myself.”
“No one is allowed back here.” He repeated the words slowly, anger building. He’d almost hurt her, maybe even killed her, and all because she was somewhere she didn’t belong.
He moved closer, stumbling slightly when he dragged his weak leg. With his movement in the cramped space, he inadvertently shoved her against the boxes stacked higher than her shoulder. The sudden contact stilled them both.
For a moment, neither moved.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” The nearness of her washed over him. He hadn’t been so close to a woman in years. To his shock, she seemed shorter, softer, and so much more vulnerable than he’d ever thought of her as being.
“I’m just looking . . .”
He could feel her stiffening against him as if preparing for battle. Her slight movements made him aware that she was a woman fully developed.
“What are you going to do, Mr. Henderson? Arrest me?” Her voice shook a little as he felt her words close to his throat. “I think I have a right to look for my things.”
If she planned to argue, Abe knew he didn’t have a chance. He wouldn’t get in a word much less make a point. Before he could think, he leaned into her and pressed his mouth over hers. For a heartbeat, he thought she’d jerk away and slap him, but she remained perfectly still. He could feel her drawing in quick breaths as the awkward kiss continued.
He put his hands on either side of her, pinning her against a box as he moved his mouth an inch away from hers. “I think, Miss Norman, that I’m going to kiss you again.”
She opened her mouth to protest and he silenced any argument. Her mouth tasted like heaven. He could feel her full bottom lip tremble. All she’d had to do was turn her head, but she remained frozen as if what he was doing was so out of the realm of possibilities, she had no defense.
He took his time kissing her the second try, remembering how a woman felt from a time when he’d been far more boy than man and kissed a few girls behind barn dances.
When she struggled against him, he broke the kiss. “Not a word. This is not open for discussion,” he whispered against her cheek, “or I kiss you again.” He couldn’t stand the thought of her sharp words after the wonder of kissing her.
Abe stilled and watched her slowly straighten away from him. “Don’t come back in the storage room again unless you want this to continue between us.” Bracing himself for a slap, he didn’t move.
He saw her nod slightly as he made room for her to pass. Her body brushed his as she moved away, and he felt the longing of her leaving as if in the few minutes they’d shared she’d become a part of him.
She lifted her chin and stared at him as lightning flashed from the high windows. He’d expected to see fear or hate. He guessed she’d threaten to have him arrested. After all, one doesn’t go around kissing proper young women, and a schoolteacher was one step down from being a nun. If it went to trial, his only defense would be that a ghost told him to do it.
But he saw no fear in her eyes, only anger, before she turned and stormed out of his store.
Abe followed, moving easily between the displays in the darkness. He stood at the open door she’d left, wondering how he could ever face her again. She’d been a teacher for years across the street from his place and they’d never said a word that wasn’t necessary. Nothing beyond “good morning.” He’d had no right to kiss her, and to kiss her the way he had was probably unforgivable. If he had any sense, he’d apologize tomorrow. But how could he apologize for doing the one thing that had made him feel alive since the war?
He didn’t sleep at all, thinking about what a fool he’d made of himself. When the mail came the next morning, he counted out her order and asked Henry to deliver it, even though the store was as busy as it had been the day before. “Tell her I’ll put up the blackboard tomorrow.” Sunday, he reasoned, the only day she never came to the school. The only day he could work without someone watching him.
Henry raised an eyebrow, but as always he didn’t question the boss. Abe had given him a chance when no one else offered him a job.
Abe watched him go, wishing he could pick up the box and hurry across the street. If he could have, he might have talked to her again. He might have asked her to step out one evening. He might have had a chance with such a woman if he tried.
At noon, as Abe always did, he closed the store for lunch. Henry went home and Abe ate his meal alone in a little room in the back his mother had always called his study, as if they had a real home and were wealthy enough to have a re
al study. She had started the practice of closing the noon hour because he needed to rest his leg, and over the years it had become a habit. Everyone in town knew the store hours and respected them.
As he walked toward the back, Abe thought of trying to catch a nap in the old leather chair beside his collection of books he kept in “his study.” Henry would wake him with a tap on the back door if he did happen to fall asleep.
He moved past a desk in the hallway, which served as his office, so he could watch for customers while doing his accounts. In the daylight, the windows high along the back wall offered plenty of light. As he slid his hand from the desk to a railing, Abe caught a glimpse of Miss Norman standing beside the stairs.
She wasn’t looking at him. She stood still as stone, holding her hands in front of her so tightly together he could see them turning white. As always, she stood as proper and perfect as a model in a window of a ladies’ store.
“Drop your hands to your sides,” he said in little more than a whisper. He hated to think that she was hurting her fingers in her effort to remain still.
She lowered them and looked up at him, her gaze a mixture of fear and longing.
He didn’t know how to make small talk. He didn’t even know how to be kind. But she already knew that and it wasn’t the reason she was standing before him now.
Leaning his hip against the desk so that they were close to the same height, Abe lifted his hand to her cheek. “Remember, not a word, Miss Norman.” He wasn’t sure he could stand chatter. “Do you understand? You’re not here to talk.”
He could feel her shaking, but she nodded as he slipped his fingers behind her neck and pulled her to him. Her body was stiff, almost fighting him as he lowered his mouth to hers. The need to touch her again had been building in him like a fire all morning.
She’d come back to him. That one fact made him feel half-drunk. She’d returned for another kiss, but she wasn’t going to make it easy. Maybe, if it were possible, she knew even less about this than he did. They weren’t courting or flirting. Neither knew how.
Circling her waist, he pulled until her breasts flattened against his chest. Her arms remained at her sides, but he could feel her with each breath. When she tried to put an inch between their bodies, he tugged her back against him without breaking the kiss. “No,” he whispered against her mouth. “I want you close against me.”
He let the feel of her rock through his entire body.
The second time, she remained close even when he lessened his hold. He smiled, lightening the kiss to barely a brush of his lips against hers. “That’s the way, Miss Norman. Now I can feel the way you react.” His words brushed her cheek. “I can feel you.”
With slow caressing strokes, his fingers crossed her face, tilting her chin slightly. His thumb brushed her bottom lip, pulling it open so that he could feel the moisture just inside. “You want this between us?” He had to be sure.
She nodded again. Her eyes were closed, but her short breaths and trembling body told him she was terrified of the unknown. Yet all she had to do was pull away. He might be touching her, but he wasn’t holding her. “Move against me then,” he whispered near her ear. When he stroked her back, she followed orders.
“Don’t move away until we’ve finished. I’m not going to hurt you, Miss Norman, I only want you near.” He parted her lips once more with the touch of his thumb, lowered the kiss over her full mouth.
She let out a little sound and he deepened the kiss giving her no time to protest his boldness. His arm tightened around her, keeping her so close that her every movement, no matter how slight, imprinted on him.
For a few minutes he kissed her hard, demanding, taking what he’d been afraid to even want for as long as he’d known her, and then he slowly relaxed his hold and the kiss turned soft. He expected her to pull away, but she remained where he’d put her, pressed solidly against his chest.
As he kissed her, he removed her hat and plowed his hand into her beautiful hair. Curls tumbled to her shoulders as pins tinged against the wooden floor around them. He lowered to her throat needing to taste her skin and she let out a sigh. He was drowning in pleasure. Not even his wildest dreams had been as wonderful. Miss Norman was in his arms and he had no idea why, nor any intention of stepping away.
When she finally gulped for air, he turned her around and crossed his arms just below her breasts as he pulled her back against him. This time she didn’t protest, didn’t pull away even one inch, but remained close. She seemed so soft and comfortable in his arms. He felt as if he were molding her to him, forever matching her form to his.
In the silence of the dusty room, she slowly relaxed against him, as lost in her thoughts as he was in his. The feel of another so close was too foreign to either of them to allow muscles to relax, but still he held her, letting his mouth drift along the smooth, soft line of flesh just below her ear. Then he twisted his fingers into her hair, tugging gently when he wanted her to offer her throat for another kiss. She responded to his request silently, but now and then he’d hear a soft sigh and he’d tighten his grip around her middle, letting her know he was still holding her, still hungry for her. The weight of her breasts resting atop his arm drove him slowly mad.
He’d asked her if she wanted this and she’d nodded, but he wasn’t sure she had any more idea what this was between them than he did. He tugged an inch of lace away from her high collar and kissed new flesh, then whispered against her ear, “I swear I’ll never hurt you. I just need to hold you awhile. When the tower clock chimes the hour, I’ll let you go. Is that satisfactory, Miss Norman?”
He felt her draw a long breath. “Yes,” she whispered. “I think it most satisfactory.”
He hugged her as the hour passed, sometimes kissing her, sometimes whispering in her ear, and sometimes simply holding her. He’d just moved her arms so that they rested on his shoulders when the clock chimed.
“When you come back, wear your hair down.” He twisted her slightly in his grip until he could kiss her one more time. “You can redo it in the room just beyond that door.” He pointed to his study. “I have to go reopen. Wait until you hear people in the store before you slip out the dressing room door. As you leave my study, turn out the light. There’s a crack between the ceiling and the wall of supplies. From the store I’ll see the light go out and know you’re gone. From that moment on, know that I’ll be missing you and wanting you like this.
“If you want to wait in there next time, I’ll know you’ve come back when I see the light.” He moved his hands down her sides as he let her go. “I’ll be waiting.”
She didn’t look back as she disappeared into his study. He wondered what she’d think of the small area, the corner reading area with a comfortable old chair, the small stove he kept burning on cold days for tea and to warm his leg that always ached worse in winter. An old bench held a dusty washbasin and empty towel rack, and back in the corner, hidden away, was the cot he’d used during the healing year when he couldn’t climb the stairs to the living space above.
On the other side of his study door were two dressing areas with only curtains separating them from the far entrance to the main floor. He kept all the ladies’ things in that corner so they could shop and try on with privacy.
He guessed that was how she’d managed to slip into the storage room both times. He walked to the front door and unlocked it, knowing there would be no nap or lunch. Though he watched as he worked, he didn’t see her leave the store, but by dark his body ached for her again.
After Henry went home for the night, Abe checked the storage room, knowing she wouldn’t be there. He put the finest brush and comb set he sold in the little extra room along with hairpins, a new washbasin, and clean towels. When she returned, if she returned, he’d have everything ready for her. He didn’t want his Miss Norman leaving looking like she’d been kissed.
His Miss Norman? He laughed at himself. She’d never be his even if, for a few minutes when he held her tight, he wished s
he were.
When he hung a mirror on the back of the door, he looked at himself. All he saw was a fool.
A fool already dying of hunger for another kiss.
Chapter 6
Saturday
Main Street
Rose was amazed how quickly Hallie fell into the role of maid. She’d arrived dressed exactly like the finest lady’s maid would dress, right down to her practical, polished shoes. Once they were in the sitting room, Rose ordered tea and the two women talked about every detail of Rose’s plan to learn about her friend’s groom.
A man might have thought Rose was overreacting to the yellow dress and lace roses, but Hallie agreed it had to be an important cry for help. The telegraph was examined, another clue.
Hallie also mentioned two facts that Rose hadn’t considered. One, Victoria must have known the man for only a very short time or she would have mentioned him in her earlier letters, and two, why have the wedding in Fort Worth when they both lived in Austin? In fact, Major Chamberlain was a very successful businessman in the capital; wouldn’t he have wanted a huge wedding for his only daughter?
“Something’s not right,” Hallie said as she finished off another sandwich. “As soon as the man arrives, I’ll go through his things. I learned a long time ago that most folks carry a tale. Some small thing that tells them who they really are. A wedding ring. A picture. A coin. A bullet they thought meant for them. Find the tell and we find a clue to the secrets he carries.”
“Makes sense,” Rose agreed. “Like maybe a badge or a piece of a uniform they once wore.”
“Right. We find whatever it is and then we go to work.”
Rose decided she liked this woman. “If Tori won’t or can’t tell me what is wrong, we’ll have to investigate. I know she wants me here.”
Hallie smiled. “You can count on me.”
As the hours passed, Rose began to do what she did best. She organized. “If you’ll stay here, I’ll go to the telegraph office and see what anyone may have noticed two days ago when Victoria sent me the message. Was she alone? Was she nervous? Frightened?”