Deborah Camp (19 page)

“We should both do some powerful thinking,” Adele agreed, “before something happens that can’t be rectified with an apology or a regret.”

Mrs. McDonald joined them, her nightgown wrinkled and her hair frizzing around her sweating face. “Mrs. Gold, your husband is as naked as the day he was born and in there waiting for you.” Planting her hands on her hips, she puffed out a breath that made the curls on her forehead dance. She took in her audience of four slack-jawed women and her lips curved into a bawdy grin. “I can attest to the fact that he’s all man—and he’s all yours. Better hurry on in there. Like my seafaring papa used to say, ‘When you get yourself a good, stiff one, you best hoist your sails and thank the Lord for the ride.’”

Adele closed her eyes slowly in embarrassment.

“Dellie, whatever is this woman talking about?
What has she been doing with your husband in your quarters?” Sally asked, almost sputtering.

Adele opened her eyes, caught the mighty struggles of Helen and Colleen not to laugh aloud, and issued Sally a long, cool glare. “Sally, if you don’t want to miss our shenanigans, then you’ll have to quit sneaking off to be with the town plague. Now excuse me.” She swept past them and escaped to her quarters.

A
lone in her parlor Adele leaned against the door and closed her eyes. The voices of the other women floated to her. She heard her name spoken, then Reno’s. Laughter followed, then angry words from Sally. Adele heard Sally’s heels tapping against the floor and up the stairs.

“… none of your business anyway,” Sally called hotly to the others. “You’re all just jealous!”

“Not likely,” Colleen called out. “You can have him.”

“I
have
had him,” Mrs. McDonald said, her low voice carrying easily to Adele. “He’s nothing to crow about.”

Adele bit her lips to smother a spate of laughter. Opening her eyes, she stared at the bowl of water she held. Maybe she’d let Reno sleep and tend to his wound by the light of day. She’d curl up on his cot and not bother him.

Who are you fooling?
she asked herself with a self-mocking smirk.
You don’t want to see him because your heart has revealed itself
.

She was falling in love with him. What other explanation could there be for her reaction when she’d thought he might have been felled by a stray bullet? Shivering at the memory of her overwhelming grief, her inconsolable pain when she’d listened for his heartbeat and couldn’t hear it, she realized that she hadn’t felt such powerful despair since her mother’s death.

Had she loved Reno back in Kansas, and had that love lain dormant until he’d kissed her again? More important, was she falling in love with the man he was or the boy she had longed for in Lawrence?

The questions circled in her mind and found no answers. Would morning make any difference to how she felt? Would daybreak cast light into her heart and reveal the answers she sought? She could only hope that Reno, unconscious, had not been aware of her anguish.

Hearing his soft groan and the squeak of the bedstead, she heaved a sigh and pushed away from the door. Just like a man to struggle to his feet when he should be flat on his back. But she was glad to be galvanized into action, because it served no purpose to worry and question and postpone the inevitable.

She was falling in love with her husband, a development that certainly complicated her life, but she would find a way to deal with it. What was important was not to let Reno know that she’d gone soft for him, because he would surely find some way to use that to his own benefit.

Prepared to be as aloof as possible without being rude or arousing his curiosity, Adde felt her resolution crumble when saw him, disheveled and disarming.
With his hair tumbling in dark waves and his eyes shadowed and heavy-lidded, he sat on the edge of the bed, the sheet wrapped around his midsection and draped over his legs, and she could tell by his expression that he didn’t like being bedridden. One long, muscled leg was exposed up to the thigh. His chest, broad and lightly furred, was also revealed to her desirous gaze. Her foolish heart took wing and beat in her breast, a wild, wanton thing.

“No, Reno,” she scolded, hurrying to him. She set the bowl and bandages on the bedside table, then placed her hands on his warm shoulders. “Lie back. You’re not going anywhere.”

“My head hurts,” he said, touching the swollen flesh. “Who was it, Dellie? Did you see them?”

“It was dark,” she answered, dodging the question. “Please lie back in the bed. You hit your head on something. It’s still bleeding a little. Let me see to it, Reno.”

He fell back with a groan, his eyes closing and his lips forming a hard line. “Damn them. He hired someone to do his dirty work.”

“Hush. We don’t need to talk about that now.”

“Why not?” he asked crossly.

“Because you’ll just get upset.” She dabbed a damp cloth against the dried blood in his hair.

“I’m not upset,” he said, slapping her hand aside. “I’m goddamned mad. Son of a bitch, sending those men here to shoot at us.”

“I don’t think they meant to shoot at anybody. I believe they were trying to shatter the windows and scare us.”

“When you fire your gun, you take life and death
into your hands. Every male out of short pants knows that.”

“I’m going to clean this wound, and you are going to keep your hands to yourself,” she informed him.

“Is that so?” he asked, some of the anger in his eyes replaced by bemusement.

“That’s so.” She cleaned the dried blood and applied a dab of ointment to the cut. “This is quite a knot you have here. Do you know what you hit?”

“The edge of the counter, I think. It’s a wonder it didn’t split right down the middle like a ripe melon.”

“What, the counter or your head?” She smiled, mischief rioting in her. “I think you’ll live.”

“Disappointed?”

She relaxed, realizing that he wasn’t aware of her earlier display of raw emotion.

“Dellie?”

“Hmmm?” She blinked, coming back to herself. “Oh, don’t be silly, I’m—”

“I seem to be naked.”

“—not disappointed.”

Reno’s brows arched and his lips quirked. “That’s a relief. I know you are a lady of high standards. Glad to hear I pass muster.”

She swatted at him. “I wasn’t talking about … Shame on you!”

“Shame on me? I didn’t get naked on my own.”

“Mrs. McDonald undressed you while I fetched the water and bandages.” She eyed the lump on his head. “Should I dress it?”

“Now there’s my problem.” He nudged her chin with his knuckle. “The woman I don’t care for undresses
me and the one I do care for wants to dress me.”

“I believe that rap on the head jostled your brains.” She looked away, flustered by his gentle teasing and his lambent gaze. “You should sleep now.”

“So should you, but where?” He eyed the space next to him. “There’s plenty of room in here for you, and you could keep me warm all through the night.”

“I’ll use your cot for tonight, thank you.”

“Suit yourself, but I warn you, that’s a poor excuse for a bed.” He sighed and gave a bounce on the bedding. “This is so comfortable I might not surrender it.” He folded his hands behind his head and grinned.

The sheet slipped to his waist, and Adele found she could not look away from the spectacle of him, even though a tiny voice scolded her. She knew his body was warm, as if fire licked just beneath his skin. She knew that he was hard with muscle but gentle with compassion. It was what she didn’t know about him that held her captive.

“Did you recognize the riders, Dellie?”

Only half of her mind comprehended the question. She nodded and caught off guard, answered, “Yancy Stummer was one, and I think the other was that Buck fellow. Buck … Buck … the one with the eye patch.”

“Wilhite.”

“Yes, that’s right.” She sucked in a breath and shook her head to clear her mind of sultry images. “But I’m probably wrong. It was dark.”

“Are you afraid I might start trouble with them?” His voice was laced with humor, but his eyes glinted with sincerity.

“I’m afraid you’ll get yourself killed,” she confessed.
“And nothing is worth that. Nothing.”

He let his arms fall slowly to his sides. The atmosphere in the room changed. Adele looked around, sensing the change, then realizing it existed between them,
because of them
. When his fingertips caressed the side of her face, she exhaled a long breath and closed her eyes. Tipping her head into the palm of his hand, she let the sensations inside her spill like a waterfall. His thumb nestled in the corner of her mouth. She parted her lips, accepted the tip of his thumb, and ran her tongue across it.

“Ah, Dellie.” His voice was rough and soft all at once. “Come here, sugar.” He curved his other hand behind her neck and drew her to him.

His lips trailed over her cheek, sprinkling small kisses, his breath warming her skin. He wound strands of her hair around his fingers and framed her face in his hands. Kissing her mouth, he seduced her with lips and tongue and inexplicable technique. He tilted her head so that his mouth slanted recklessly over hers.

“So sweet,” he whispered against her lips. “Kiss me back, sugar. Make me believe you love me.”

Drifts of desire floated over her, through her. She inched closer, her hands moving to his hair, her lips parting to accept his thrusting tongue.

He flinched.

The night’s events intruded again. Adele leaned away.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Your head. I didn’t meant to—”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Yes, it does.” She stood up from the bed. His
hands clutched for her, but she stepped back out of his reach.

“Dellie, come here. It’s just a little bump on the head. You were making me feel fine. Real fine.” He grinned around the last words.

“I don’t have your constitution. I’m tired.”

“Slip on into this bed and let me rock you to dreamland, darlin’.”

Adele laughed at his persistence. “No, Reno. Not tonight.”

Interest sparkled in his eyes. “Not tonight? Now that sounds promising. I do believe we’re making progress here.”

Adele went to the tallboy and selected a nightgown and robe from it. “Once you’re fully recovered, you can finish that shed, and then we’ll talk.” She flashed him a smile and crossed the threshold into the parlor. “Sweet dreams, Reno,” she said, laughing at his squinty-eyed attempt at menace before she closed the bedroom door.

She sat on the parlor sofa and relived his kisses and the beauty of his brawny chest, with its soft covering of curly black hair, his small brown paps, the line of hair that arrowed down past his navel. Crossing her arms, she hugged herself and marveled at her will of iron. If she hadn’t touched that lump on his head and if he hadn’t flinched, she would be in that bed with him. She knew this. But did he?

“I’m not staying in this damned bed another minute,” Reno announced the next day when Adele came in carrying a dinner tray for him. He flung back the covers with a flourish.

Giving a shriek of alarm, Adele spun away so quickly that the soup sloshed out of its bowl and the glass of milk nearly tipped over.

“Have a care, Reno,” she said, her voice high and uncharacteristically flighty. “A lady is present!”

“So?”

“So cover yourself.”

“Dellie, I’m decent,” he said, his tone grimly indulgent.

Not fully trusting him, Adele glanced over her shoulder. He was standing and pulling on a pair of trousers over his red long-handles. She turned to face him again, frowning at his determination to defy her.

“You aren’t strong enough to be out of that bed.”

“I know my own strength.” He rested a hand momentarily on his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. “Although there are three of you.”

“Sit down before you fall down.” She set the tray on the bedside table. “I swear, men are the most exasperating creatures on earth. No wonder the Lord decided He’d have to create a woman to help Adam. Didn’t take Him long to figure out that man was self-destructive.”

Reno fashioned a flapping mouth with his hand. “Yak, yak, yak. You aren’t easing my headache any.”

“Sit back against the headboard. I’ve brought you some delicious chicken soup, Mrs. McDonald’s famous griddle cakes, and a big glass of milk. You’ll feel much better after you’ve eaten.” Shaking out a napkin, she bent close to him and tucked the edge under the frayed neckline of his long johns.

His dark scowl and brooding eyes caught her attention and she matched his forbidding countenance.

“Don’t look at me as if you hate me. I’m doing this for your own good.” She set the tray on his lap. “I should think you’d be glad to have a reason to lie about all day.”

He sighed wearily. “Yes, I know, Dellie. Before I stepped off the train, you had decided I was a no-’count cur.”

“That’s not true,” she admonished him. “I was looking forward to seeing you until you staggered off the train and fell like a stone at my feet.”

Folding his arms across his chest, he glowered at her. “Back in Kansas you gave people the benefit of the doubt and didn’t assume they were worthless and lazy. You thought well of them. Your heart was as big as the prairie sky.”

“Back in Kansas I was a young girl who knew nothing of the world. I’m a woman now and I’ve learned that the only person you can depend on is yourself.”

His mouth dipped at the corners. “Who taught you that, Dellie?”

“Life taught me that. Since Mama died, I’ve had my share of disappointments.”

He glanced around and shrugged. “You seem to be doing well for yourself.”

“Yes, well … I must return to my work.” She stood, uneasy with the turn of conversation.

“What work? It’s Sunday.”

“Yes, but we’re cleaning up the mess from last night and boarding up the broken windows. The railroad, which actually owns this building, is sending money for new glass, but until then we’ll have to make do.”

“I could help.”

“No. You eat and I’ll return for the tray. I want to see if Sally’s back. She went to church this morning and that’s the last I saw of her. I suppose she’s off somewhere with Terrapin, but she could at least have let someone know.”