Romancing the West (20 page)

Since he didn’t aim on being celibate or unfaithful, he needed to warm to the idea of Emily warming his bed. There was no turning back as he assumed Seth had extended his proposal. By his calculations, the man had been in Heaven two or three days. He’d expected a wired update by now. The silence intimated that Emily had hesitated and Seth was in the midst of wooing her on Athens’s behalf. If talk was true about Wright’s reputation with the ladies, then his engagement was set in stone.

“She’s the sensible choice”
he reminded himself. Up until Kaila had fallen in his arms, he’d never second-guessed that decision. He’d known Emily most of her life, even if only as his sister’s best friend. Unlike Kaila, he knew her background and temperament. She didn’t intrude upon his thoughts every five seconds. She didn’t distract him from business. He had a personal stake in the Peacemaker Alliance and it chafed that the Englishwoman had impeded on his almost manic determination to get the agency up and running. But even as he strived to reconcile their powerful love-making as a one-time affair, he yearned for more. The devil of it was, like Emily, he suspected Kaila might be fascinated with one of his famous brothers. Unlike with Emily, he’d felt a flicker of jealously.

“Step right up! Buy your tickets for the wildest show in the west!”

Athens jerked out of his reverie as the crush of people inched forward. Zach and Zoe flanked him, their expressions exuberant as there were now only three people between them and the raspy-voiced barker. They’d been waiting in line for twenty minutes. Seemed everyone in the county had turned out for the opening performance of J.P. Fishburn’s Circus.

Zach had wanted to skip church in order to spend the entire day on the grounds watching the entertainers prepare for this afternoon’s performance. He’d sulked when Athens refused, fidgeting in his Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes like they were a size too small. “You don’t go to church. Why do we have to?” he’d complained.

“Because I’m your father and I say so.” Usually he was capable of a more eloquent argument, but his quarrel with the Maker was bone-deep personal. When he came to terms, he’d return to the flock. He’d been a wayward lamb for three years now.

“I heard tell they’ve got people who fly through the air,” Zach told Zoe, his mood considerably brighter than this morning.

“You mean they have wings?”

“Don’t be silly, stupid.”

Athens squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Don’t call your sister stupid.”

“People don’t have wings,” he grumbled to Zoe. “Sparkles has wings.”

“She ain’t a real person.”

“She isn’t a real person,” Athens corrected as they moved forward another two inches.

“Course she ain’t,” Zoe countered with a roll of her big blue eyes, “she’s a fairy.” She pushed back the brim of her bonnet. “Are there fairies in the circus, Papa?”

She smiled up at him in a manner reminiscent of Jocelyn--trusting and innocent. He swallowed hard, crouched to readjust her hat. His daughter’s pale skin had darkened a shade since moving to Phoenix. He tried to shield her from the intense heat, but, like Zach, she often disregarded his advice. Bonnets, she’d told him in her little girl voice, were bothersome.
“Sparkles said tree dwellers don’t wear hats!’’

He’d been at a loss to argue otherwise. He imagined the ribbon secured beneath her chin snagging on a branch, imagined his daughter slipping and choking, and that was that.
“You worry too much,”
he could hear Jocelyn saying. She used to say that a lot. In fact, it was one of the last things she said before he helped her onto that ill-fated train.

“You look sad, Papa.”

Athens blinked away the moment, conjured a smile. “Just pensive.”

Zoe itched at the ribbon he’d just tightened.

“What’s that mean?”

“Means his thoughts are fixed on something sorrowful,” Zach said. “Don’t worry. The clowns will cheer him up.”

“Step right up! Buy your tickets for the wildest show in the west!”

“Come on, Papa. We’re almost next!” The excitement in his son’s voice fixed his thoughts in the present. Festive music filled the air along with the smell of fried pastries. The area was staked out with several smaller tents and a massive tent known as The Big Top. Painted wagons housed wild animals. Assorted novelty acts teased the onlookers with glimpses of their skills. The smells were pungent and the sights spectacularly gaudy.

He flashed on Kaila’s beautiful face, remembered her eagerness to attend the circus. The thought of running into her filled him with anticipation and dread. She’d professed the ability to pretend that their lustful coupling never transpired. If she succeeded, he’d be wounded. That realization cemented his decision to steer clear of the woman. She breathed life into his long dead heart. That scared the devil out of him. The last thing he wanted was to feel.

“Sorry I’m late,” Parker said, coming from out of nowhere as was his practice. “Bailey nabbed my ear and wouldn’t let go.”

“That must’ve hurt,” Zoe said.

The men grinned. “Did he mention anything about a telegram while he was flapping his gums?” Athens asked.

His assistant handed him a folded paper. “Another from London. Nothing from Wright.”

“Guess you’ve got business to attend,” Zach said, his voice laced with anger and disappointment.

Athens flushed with guilt. He’d stepped out of the political limelight to devote more time to his children. He’d yet to strike a balance. “Not tonight.” He pocketed the note to read later.

“Step right up!”

Athens bellied up to the brightly painted booth, placed his fingers over Zoe’s mouth before she could comment on the barker’s dramatic appearance. He was pretty sure she’d never seen a man sporting a pompadour, waxed moustache, hoop earring, and enough face paint to rival a dove’s. Growing up in the theater business, he’d seen it all. He smiled at the man, indicated himself, Parker, and the kids. “Four tickets, please.”

Zoe nudged away his hand. “Five.”

“Sparkles doesn’t need a ticket, baby.”

“Course not. But Miss Kaila does.”

Heart pounding, Athens looked to where his daughter pointed. Sure enough, Mrs. Dillingham had joined the long, winding line.

Zach craned his head around. “She the cookie maker you told me about?”

Zoe nodded. “Best cookies ever.”

“Sure dressed fancy for the circus.”

“She’ll be standing in line for some time,” Parker noted. “It’s a scorcher today.”

“What’d she wear so many frills for?” Zach asked.

“Be a real shame if a fine lady like that wilted from the heat.”

Athens frowned at Parker. Was he playing match-maker or did he, himself, have designs on the lady?

Zoe tugged at his shirt sleeve. “Papa.”

He suppressed a sigh, plunked more money in the barker’s hand. “Five.”

Napa Valley, California

Seth had just finished patching a leak in his bed-room ceiling. Before that he’d tended to two leaks in the kitchen. Temporary, but the best he could do. All the while he lamented the way he’d bullied Emily. He’d played the friendship card. Manipulated her. This was only the beginning. He still had a blackmail scheme to bust and a marriage to arrange.

She’d kept to herself while he patched and hammered. He’d welcomed the silent treatment as he processed all the information regarding her father. But now he was tending a cracked window pane in the sitting room and she was staring through a window on the adjacent wall. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or depressed. The possibility he’d driven a wedge between them chafed. “A penny for your thoughts.”

Emily addressed his question without turning. “I’m thinking they’ve been gone a long time.”

They
being Bellamont and Mrs. Dunlap. “Only two hours.”

“Seems longer.”

“A watched pot never boils.”

“What?”

Seth set aside his tools, took off his spectacles, and sleeved his moist brow. He’d changed out of his good suit into loose brown trousers and a comfortable shirt. She still wore her tomboy get-up and braids. This was the first time he’d ever fancied an ass in trousers over an ass in a skirt. Not that he’d ever jump over to Pinkerton’s side of the tracks. This was a unique situation. A doomed attraction. Now was as good a time as any to bring up Athens. But first he needed to smooth things over regarding suitor number one--the weasel winemaker.

“Bellamont would be a fool to travel in this storm.” The northwestern tempest made a desert monsoon look like a sun shower. “He didn’t strike me as a fool.”

He struck him as shady. She was deluding herself if she thought he offered marriage out of the goodness of his heart. Even if his efforts to protect her father had been sincere, his intentions toward Emily stemmed from lust. There was no mistaking his desire. That didn’t make him a bad man, Seth conceded, just a man.

He set his spectacles on her writing desk as he crossed the room and moved in behind her at the west window. A hard blowing rain pummeled the glass pane. The roads would be flooded by now, thick with sucking mud and he’d venture lightning had cut down a tree or two. At this rate, Bellamont and Mrs. Dunlap might be stuck in town until tomorrow.

Alone with Emily all night. His dick twitched at the thought.
Nuns and puppies. Nuns and puppies.

“You’re hovering.”

“I am.”

“I don’t mind.”

A pleasant surprise.

“You don’t make me nervous anymore.  I’m not mad anymore either.”

Hot damn.

“I know you meant well. You’re right. Friends confide in one another. What happened with my father, it’s difficult . . . I don’t like to talk about it.”

“You know you’re not to blame. For his drinking. His death.”

“I know. I just wish . . . I wish he could have loved me half as much as he loved her.”

Well, hell.

“I wish we wouldn’t have fought the night he died. I wish . . .”

He wanted her to turn around so he could pull her into his arms and show her the affection denied to her by Walt and Alice McBride. Even though his own home situation had been less than perfect, he’d never doubted his parents’ love for their only son. “You have to let this go, Em.”

“I said something similar to him about my mother.” She shook her head. “It’s hard. But I’m going to try. I think it helped, talking to you about it. It’s not the awful secret that it was. The awful burden. Mr. Bellamont has offered a sympathetic ear time and again, but I just, I wanted to forget it ever happened. Now I’m thinking maybe it’s better to accept it and move on. Thank you, Poet.”

“For upsetting you?”

“For being my friend. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. Someone I can trust. I do feel that bond, I do.”

He should’ve felt good about that. Instead he felt like an ass. She didn’t trust
him.
She trusted Phineas Pinkerton, a man who’d prefer wearing her drawers as opposed to getting in them.

She rolled back her shoulders, sighed. “You’ve probably sensed that I’m a little . . . preoccupied.”

“That the same thing as tense?”

She’d yet to turn around, but he could see her reflection in the window pane. Her mouth lifted in a slight smile, but then she closed her eyes and scrunched her brow. “I need to talk to you about something very important.”

Thank you, Jesus.

She turned abruptly, knocking into him.

He steadied her and stepped back to give her space.

She surprised him by closing the distance. “Remember that pesky plot problem I mentioned yesterday?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to jockey his thoughts. This was out of the blue and not what he’d hoped for. But at least she was talking. Maybe he could steer the conversation around to her blackmailer once he grabbed hold. “You wanted to run it by me.”

“Right. Well, I thought it was a plot problem, because I was stuck on a certain scene. But I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and I think it’s more of a sensory problem.”