“Yes.”
Addie almost sighed with relief. Now they were getting somewhere. She was trying to figure out what to say to encourage him into revealing another piece of his worry, when he surprised her and started speaking on his own.
“You see, I promised the boys we’d always stay together, Addie, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep my promise if I stay here. We all need jobs. Permanent jobs. The boys aren’t used to not having permanent employment. They aren’t like a lot of the young men roaming the West these days. They’re used to permanence. So am I, if it comes to that.
“There’s no money in music unless you’re in a famous big-city symphony. If I stay here without them, I’ll be letting down the men who have depended on me for—oh, shoot, ten, fifteen years. I—I don’t know if I can do that, in good conscience.
“Shoot, Addie, we went through the war together. We lost half our men and swore the rest of us would always stay together. I can’t let them down now.”
“But haven’t your men all got jobs in town now, Charley?”
“Yes, but none of them are permanent.”
“I reckon they could be. I know the blacksmith needs help, and if Mr. Lewis is good at his job, I’ll bet Mr. Woolrich will keep him on.” Especially if Mr. Woolrich intended to maintain his stock of Aunt Ivy’s apple brandy, Addie thought grimly. She didn’t say so to Charley.
“You think so?”
“Why, I certainly do. And Mr. Alden and Mr. Whatley seem to be doin’ fine at the newspaper. Mr. Steadlow’s been complainin’ for ages about not havin’ enough help.”
And if Mr. Steadlow expected to continue using Addie’s input on the Ladies’ Literary League and the newspaper’s Methodist-Episcopal Ladies’ Corner, he’d just better hire the two of ‘em full time, too. She didn’t tell Charley that, either.
An errant thought apparently struck Charley just then because he chuckled and then seemed surprised to be finding anything about his situation amusing.
“What is it, Charley?” Addie hoped he wouldn’t make her pry this information out of him, as well.
“I’m sorry, Addie. I was just thinking about Francis Whatley. You know, he was a deputy sheriff back home. I think he wants Fermin Small’s job.”
Addie sat up straight and stared at Charley. “You mean it? Why, what a wonderful idea!”
He blinked at her, obviously startled by her reaction. “Well, but Addie, Rothwell’s already got a sheriff.”
“Not for long.” Addie knew she sounded sour and hoped Charley wouldn’t take her tone amiss.
His expression turned thoughtful, and Addie decided to discuss Fermin Small and Francis Whatley at a later date.
“I reckon your aunt Ivy has Lester all sewed up. I think he aims to stay here.”
Addie had been counting names on her fingers. “That only leaves one man, Charley. It shouldn’t be too hard to find one man a job around here. There’s lots needs doin’.”
“Maybe.”
He sounded glum and doubtful, and Addie felt an itch to elbow him again. Instead, she asked, “What does he do, Charley?”
“Peachy Gilbert.” Charley’s smile looked very affectionate; Addie found it charming that he cared so much for his men. “Peachy was an insurance underwriter back home in America City,” he told her.
Addie’s brow wrinkled yet again. An insurance underwriter? She didn’t even know what an insurance underwriter did; it didn’t sound like a skill in big demand in the territory, though.
Deciding that if Peachy Gilbert was the only thing standing in the way of her and Charley’s happiness it was worth her while to ask, she did so. “What exactly does an insurance underwriter do, Charley?”
“Peachy used to write insurance policies. You know; he’d decide the worth of something and set a value to it, and then write a policy backed by the bank at home. They insured a lot of the properties in America City and the surrounding farmlands. Went bust after the war, what with all the mess there.”
After thinking for a second or two, Addie said, “Sounds to me as though Mr. Gilbert ought to talk to Mr. Pinkley at the Rothwell Bank. With all the settlers and ranchers moving into the area, I’ll bet he could find work there, sure as anything. I don’t reckon too many insurance underwriters move west. Leastways, I never heard of any of ‘em.”
With another surprised chuckle Charley said, “No. I reckon you’re right on that one, Addie.”
Then and there, Addie resolved to discuss Peachy Gilbert’s situation with Mr. Pinkley at the bank. If her recollection served, Peachy Gilbert was the one who’d taken the fancy of Miss Pinkley, the schoolmarm, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find him a job with Miss Pinkley’s father.
She’d be diced up and fried if she’d let Charley get away just because some stupid insurance underwriter couldn’t find a job. And why anybody’d want a job like that, she’d never understand. Still and all, hers was not to wonder why; hers was merely to see Charley’s problems taken care of.
Peering at him closely, she decided he looked a shade more cheerful. “Do you feel better about things now that we’ve discussed the band, Charley?”
She didn’t want to usurp any credit in this situation, as Charley, being a man and all, might feel diminished. Aunt Ivy said a gentleman’s self-worth was a fragile thing at best and needed to be carefully pampered and propped up. Addie was willing to pamper and prop all she needed to in order to ensure her Prince Charming remained with her.
With a big squeeze, Charley smiled sadly and said, “I reckon so, Addie. I reckon I do.”
“I’m so glad, Charley.” Addie hugged him back, hard.
“I think they’d like it here. Harlan said he didn’t want to leave a couple weeks or more ago. And Francis sounded as though he wanted to stay, too.”
Addie’s heart, which earlier in the evening had lain lumpy and cold on the floor at her feet, now bubbled with love and excitement. “Oh, Charley.”
When he kissed her then, nothing seemed to stand in the way of their happiness. Charley’s kisses were wonderful; he teased her lips until she fairly whimpered for more, then crushed his mouth to hers. Not the least bit shy any longer, Addie thrust his robe aside and buried her fingers in his crisp chest hairs. Oh, how she loved the warm, strong feel of his chest. He was built just like a knight, all right—her knight.
He growled his response to her boldness, and Addie was startled when he lurched up from the window seat with her in his arms. He cradled her like a baby, rocking her back and forth.
“Sweetheart, I want to make love to you so bad I hurt.”
“I want to make love to you, too, Charley,” she confessed softly, wondering what was stopping him.
“But this is your father’s room, Addie. I—I feel funny about it.”
Believing a bed would be far superior to the barn or the admittedly soft grass out by Calhoun Creek, Addie thought furiously for a couple of seconds and then said, “But Charley, we’ll be married soon, and then this will be our room.”
Addie took Charley’s miserable groan for a gasp of delight, and figured her suggestion had been brilliant. Smiling to herself, Addie allowed as to how this loving-a-man stuff might be complicated, but it was sure worth it. She reached inside Charley’s robe, caressed his hardness, heard him moan with passion, and sighed in delight.
When Charley eased her down onto the bed, the ticking crackled invitingly. She pulled on the ties to her robe. It fell open and, as Addie had hoped he would, Charley took immediate advantage of her unbuttoned nightgown. She arched into his caress, her nipples tingling from his tender attention.
“You make me feel so good, Charley.” Boldly, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, searching for his. Their tongues mated wildly for a few seconds before Charley pulled away to attend to the rest of her body.
He groaned, “Addie,” again as he caressed her nipple.
Then he ripped the nightgown over her head and suckled her naked flesh. Addie decided this was as close to heaven as a bo
dy could get.
When he buried himself in her heat, Addie thrust her hips up to welcome him home. Sweet heaven above, she loved this man. He was all she ever wanted in her life. He took her to a place she’d never been before, and she was mortally glad her aunt was deaf as she couldn’t contain her cries of passion.
Charley held her tight after they were through, panting into her hair. Addie hugged him back, wishing they could stay wrapped up together forever.
“Sweet heaven, I love you, Addie. I never thought I’d find a woman like you to love.”
“I never thought I’d ever find a man like you, either, Charley.”
“Thank you for loving me, Addie. I’ll always love you. I—I’ll remember you forever.”
“Well, mercy sakes, of course you will, Charley,” Addie said with a little giggle. “It’s hard to forget the person you’re married to, I reckon.”
It seemed to take Charley a long time to say, “I reckon that’s so, Addie.”
Addie sighed happily as she snuggled more deeply into Charley’s embrace. She was going to love being married; she just knew it.
# # #
The next morning, Addie awoke with a smile on her face and Charley in her arms. In their sleep, they’d managed to arrange themselves cup-and-saucer style, with Addie being the saucer, curled around Charley’s cup, and with her fingers buried in his chest hair. The arrangement seemed comically disproportionate since Charley was much too big a cup for her little saucer, and it made Addie giggle. Then she stretched luxuriously, relishing memories from last night. Oh, my, he loved her. Addie felt like singing.
Then she almost had heart failure when the possibility of her aunt Ivy finding her in Charley’s bed struck her. Dawn had barely cracked if the cool grayness creeping through Charley’s window was an indication, and the likelihood of Ivy discovering her whereabouts was minimal. But Addie had always tried to be a proper, dutiful niece, and she did not care to cause her aunt any shock or unhappiness.
Pausing to deposit one last kiss on Charley’s shoulder, she slipped out of bed.
Charley groaned, turned over, and said, “Do we have to get up now? I want you to hold me some more.”
Addie caught her breath at the slow, sensuous smile he gave her. His voice sounded particularly rumbly and deep this morning, a little gravelly from sleep, and terribly erotic. She almost gave herself up to the promise of her senses. Common sense prevailed, however, and she resumed tying the belt to her robe.
“It’s still real early, Charley, but I don’t reckon I want Aunt Ivy to get upset.”
Her prosaic comment wiped the smile from Charley’s face, and she regretted not having phrased herself more delicately. Charley looked guilty.
“I’m sorry, Addie. I wasn’t thinking.”
She stooped to plant a kiss on his lips this time and said, “Well, it won’t be long before we won’t have to hide anything from Aunt Ivy, Charley.”
“I love you, Addie,” he said softly.
Addie sighed with pleasure. “And I love you, Charley. I’m so glad you got shot and came here.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she hadn’t expressed herself well. But Charley’s crack of laughter gave her to understand he didn’t mind.
“Oh, Addie,” he said, throwing his long legs over the side of the bed, “I don’t know how I survived before I met you.”
He stood up, giving her a splendid view of his body, and Addie was struck by the magnificent maleness of her Charley. Little shivers danced up and down her spine.
“I don’t know how I ever got along without you, either, Charley.”
Drawing on his drawers, Charley said, “Lordy, Addie, you can take care of yourself and a dozen other people, easy. I’ve never met anybody as capable as you are.”
His compliment took Addie completely aback. Her gaze snapped from his torso to his face. He didn’t appear to be teasing.
“You really think so?”
Charley paused with one leg in his trousers to look at her. “Good grief, Addie, don’t you know that by now?”
Chewing her lower lip, Addie said, “I don’t guess I ever thought much about it, Charley.”
“Shoot, Addie, you and your aunt Ivy live out here on the edge of the wilderness in a wild territory crawling with outlaws and Indians, with the nearest half-way big town two hundred miles away, and you treat it as though it were nothing. Why, you grow your own food and can and cook and doctor wounds and—and—and do everything. Two women. Alone. You’re the most competent woman I’ve ever met in my life.”
Addie felt her brow furrow with her uneasy frown. She peered at Charley cautiously. “That—that doesn’t make me sound very ladylike, Charley.”
“Ladylike?” Charley frowned, too. “You’re not going to start in on that again, are you, Addie. Because I can tell you here and now that I won’t put up with it.”
“You won’t?”
Charley slammed his other leg into his trousers and buttoned them up. “No, I sure won’t.”
“You—you mean, a fine gentleman like you doesn’t want a lady for a wife?”
She saw Charley heave an exasperated sigh and guessed she shouldn’t have asked. He turned deliberately and glared at her, his powerful fists resting on his narrow hips, his impressive chest bared to Addie’s appreciative gaze. She tried to keep her mind on what he said.
“I never wanted any stupid, simpering southern belle, Miss Adelaide Blewitt. The only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry in my entire life is you. A ‘lady’—at least the kind you’re always talking about—is about as useless as a Confederate dollar in these parts. You—” He pointed at her heart. “—are the lady I want. You’re big-hearted and sweet, and pretty as can be. And you’re useful, which is more important than anything else.” He turned to start looking for his socks and grumbled, “And I’m not a gentleman, either.”
Although she knew she should get started with her morning chores, Addie paused to consider Charley’s vehement statement. She just loved it when her Charley was masterful this way. He sure seemed to mean what he said. That made her feel pretty good, actually.
“Well, thank you, Charley.” She still felt uncertain, though, about one or two things. Deciding she might as well ask about one of them, she said, “But would you teach me how to press flowers someday, even if you don’t want me to be a lady?”
He turned, clearly startled. Then he threw back his head and laughed. Addie looked at him tentatively for a second, and then she smiled, too.
“Oh, Addie.” Charley took two big steps and drew her into his arms. He lifted her right up off the floor and kissed her hard. Then he set her down again and got a strange expression on his face. “Addie, when our first daughter is old enough to toddle, I’ll take the both of you out by the river and pick some flowers and teach you how to press them. Will that make you happy?”
The scene he painted with his words sounded so heavenly, Addie felt tears burn her eyes. Oh, my. Their first daughter! Blinking furiously to keep them from falling—she was sure Charley would think she was crazy if she cried—she said, “It sounds wonderful, Charley. It sounds absolutely perfect.”
Charley peered into her eyes for the longest time. His eyes looked soft and loving and almost sad, and they made Addie want to cry, too. At last he said, “I’d want our first child to be a girl, Addie. A sweet little girl just like her mama.”
All thought of tears vanished in an instant. “A girl? But—but Aunt Ivy says gentlemen always want a boy first, Charley.”
Charley shook his head and pinched her chin before he turned to resume dressing. “I reckon your aunt Ivy’s a smart woman, Addie, but she doesn’t know everything about men.”
“Well, I guess she doesn’t at that. For heaven’s sake.” Addie could hardly believe Charley’s preference in the order of his offspring.
Pulling on a boot, Charley said, “I’ll go on out to the barn now, Addie. Maybe I can get another shelf put together before breakfast.”
> Addie paused at the door and turned around. She said thoughtfully, “Will you come to town with me this morning, Charley? I know you wanted to finish the shelves, but I need to do some visiting, and maybe you can help get the dry goods at the Emporium while I do that.”
“Why, sure, Addie. I’ll do anything I can to help you. You know that.”
She left him with a big smile. “Thank you, Charley.”
Charley stared at the door for some minutes after Addie left him, wishing life could be as easy as Addie painted it. Then, with an enormous sigh, he decided if he couldn’t have what he wanted, he could at least pretend until reality shredded his pretenses into bloody strips and he had to flee, leaving Addie behind, lonely and forsaken.
Chapter 17
Addie and Charley set out for Rothwell in the wagon right after breakfast, leaving Lester and Ivy eyeing one another in the kitchen.
Twirling her parasol, Addie gave Charley a shrewd look and said, “Now I wonder what Lester and Aunt Ivy will be up to while we’re gone.”
Charley was determined not to ruin the short time he had left with Addie. He clucked at the horse and said, “Whatever it is, I expect they’ll have sense enough to use a bed, Addie. No reason to get grass all over your clothes if you don’t have to.”
“Charley!” Addie gave his arm a little whack. Charley only laughed.
When they drove by the sheriff’s office in Rothwell, Addie noticed Fermin Small look up from his desk. His hound-dog’s eyes opened wide and he leaped up from his chair, knocking it over backwards in his haste.
Charley heard the crash and glanced toward the sound. “Here comes the sheriff.” He sounded glum.
Addie saw Fermin grab his gun belt and lope for the door. “Oh, good grief.”
Before she turned pointedly away and settled her parasol in such a manner as to prevent the sheriff’s viewing Charley, she saw Fermin’s gun fall from the gun belt and land at his feet. The gun went off, making a loud report in the formerly quiet morning air, and startling walkers on the street. Horses at the hitching rail and underneath mounted citizens jumped and jittered. One gentleman fell from his steed onto the dusty roadway. People hit the dirt all around the Blewitt wagon, frightened, unaware that it was their sheriff’s unassisted gun firing. Addie, with an unladylike snort of disgust, suspected they all figured the bank was being robbed at least.
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