Wild Texas Rose (6 page)

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 real 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 she 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

R
ose 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?”

“While you’re gone I’ll go next door and introduce myself to the maid. Maybe I can learn something. You’d be surprised what women in the same trade tell each other.”

Rose laughed. “Good luck. I’ve never been able to get more than a few words out of the woman.”

As she stood, Rose noticed Hallie wrapped the remaining sandwiches in a napkin. “If you don’t mind taking Stitch these extras. I’d hate to see them go to waste.”

Pulling on her coat, Rose took the napkin. She’d just learned something new about Hallie Smith. No matter what else the woman was, she was kind.

One step out the door, Rose collided with a tall figure blocking her path. He stumbled backward, surprised by her attack, and she lost her footing trying to slow. They both seemed to be dancing an odd scarecrow kind of movement a moment before both tumbled to within inches of the wide stairway.

She yelped in fear as the stranger stood, pulling her up with him. The napkin of sandwiches went flying across the steps.

“Pardon me,” she said as she looked up into cold gray eyes. “I wasn’t watching where . . .” She recognized the man.

“You again,” he said without loosening his grip. “Are you aware, miss, that you might be a danger both to yourself and others?”

“You don’t look too damaged.” Rose resented the fact that this stranger, who’d helped her yesterday when she’d arrived, might think she was normally clumsy. Though what he thought was of little matter to her, she reminded herself. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?”

“I might ask you the same question. Though it’s obvious you’re stealing food.”

He picked up one of the little snacks and, to her shock, ate it. “Not bad, but if you can afford a suite, surely you can pay for your food.”

“I did pay for it and stop eating my tea sandwiches. What are you doing hanging around outside my door? I should call the management.”

“Not a bad idea, miss. Maybe one of us should switch rooms.” He held up his key and pointed to the door next to hers. “Since I was the one attacked, I’ll ask to be reassigned.”

“Good.”

She made it three steps before someone below shouted, “Rose!”

A vision in furs and silk rushed up the stairs. “Oh, Rose, I’m so glad you’re here. I just couldn’t wait any longer to see you even though my future husband seems to have a hundred things for me to do before the wedding.”

Rose heard something in her friend’s voice that didn’t ring true. A note of panic or fear, or maybe just pre-wedding nerves.

With sudden emotion, Victoria whispered, “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d been unable to come.”

Rose hugged Victoria Chamberlain. She tried to smile, but the feeling that something was off center was still there. Tori’s smile was too bright, her hug too tight. As always she was dressed to perfection, but for a woman declaring her joy over her dearest friend’s appearance, she didn’t even meet Rose’s gaze.

The possibility that she was the only one who didn’t know that she was in a play haunted Rose. Something was wrong with Victoria.

Rose almost laughed. According to her family, something was always wrong with Victoria. But there were shadows beneath Tori’s pale blue eyes and she clung too tightly to Rose’s arm.

She reminded Rose of a woman near panic.

Victoria continued her act. “I see you’ve met Killian O’Toole, our honorable circuit judge for this district. August’s friend couldn’t make it back from Washington in time for the wedding and he talked Killian into standing up with him as best man. Isn’t that grand?”

Rose looked at the tall man dressed in black. Somehow she wasn’t surprised to find him mixed up in this mess. The gray-eyed man bothered her. He seemed almost stoop-shouldered from the bundle of secrets he carried. Killian O’Toole appeared to be as tall as her driver Stitch, but his frame was far slimmer. She doubted Killian could protect himself much less anyone else.

When she noticed his confusion, she couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t another bit player cast in this production. The poor man must have hit his head in the fall because he just stared at Victoria as if all the rest of the world had faded to black. “I agreed to stand with August Myers before I knew who he planned to marry. I had no idea it was you, Miss Chamberlain.”

His confession was whispered. Victoria didn’t seem to hear it, but Rose had. She couldn’t read the man, but she suspected that if he’d known who the bride was he might not have been a part of the wedding party.

Victoria grabbed his arm and pressed against him. “I wanted to surprise you.” She laughed as she moved him along like some giant puppet. “Killian, you must join us for lunch. You’re going to love my very dearest friend, Rose McMurray.”

Rose stared straight at the silent man, but her words were for Victoria. “He’s already eaten.”

“Nonsense, he has to join us. My father is getting us a table and August promised to stop by if he can. He’s covering a very important trial so he won’t be able to stay long before his train leaves for Dallas. He says the news doesn’t stop for weddings, so he must work.”

Without another word they moved down the stairs and into the dining room. Rose knew it wouldn’t be worth arguing over. Victoria always got her way. Even if the thin man had wanted to run, he wouldn’t have had a chance with Tori clinging to his arm in what looked like a death grip, and Rose felt just as trapped.

As they walked to the table, Rose heard Tori whisper to Killian, “Give my father time. He never likes anyone at first, but I know eventually he’ll warm up to you.”

Then, as if tossing out an old toy, Tori shoved Killian toward Rose and ran to hug her father.

Killian stood staring at Victoria. It was Rose’s turn to help him along. She locked arms with him and tugged him forward. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Killian didn’t take his eyes off Victoria. “Yes, she is. Even more beautiful than I remember.” He finally seemed to notice Rose and added, “You both are. She told me about you writing her from your ranch. I think you mean a great deal to her.”

Rose couldn’t lie. “In truth, I doubt I’m her best friend. We’ve only seen each other once since our school days.”

He turned his attention to her. “I think, Miss McMurray, that you are her only friend. I’ve never heard her mention another.”

“You know her well?”

“I met her a few years ago when I was called to Austin. I found her crying on a hidden bench in the back of an old cemetery. I thought she was beautiful then, but here, now, is something different. It’s like she’s an ivory angel and not real flesh and blood.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve seen her like this once before. Most women shine when they’ve been polished, but Tori—she sparkles. It’s like she’s playing the role of queen and we’re all peasants.”

There it was again, Rose thought, a feeling that all was not as it seemed. Part of her wanted to yell for everyone to stop pretending they were living some kind of adventure. Rose didn’t like adventure. She liked order.

“You know her fiancé?”

“I’ve meet him a few times when I visited Austin. Apparently I’m the only person he knows in this area who’s willing to fill in for the best man. I was shocked when he asked me. He said all of his friends couldn’t spare the time off and his bride had insisted the wedding be in Fort Worth.”

“Why?”

Killian shrugged. “I have no idea. In fact I didn’t even know she was the bride August wrote about. I think it was pure luck that a big trial is going on in Dallas—otherwise he would have had to travel from Austin.”

Rose glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall of the dining room. A mixture of rain and snow was splattering against the glass. “Probably she wanted it here because of the weather.”

He looked from the windows to her. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

As she and Killian neared the table, he seemed to straighten back into the cold, polite stranger she’d met before.

While Victoria listened to her father, Killian O’Toole leaned down close to Rose’s ear. “Tell me, Miss McMurray, does the major bite? I swear every time he looks in my direction I hear him growl.”

She fought down a giggle. “Yes, I think he does.” Deciding she might like this best man, she added, “Can we start over? I’m Rose, and don’t count on me to know much about anyone here.”

He took her hand. “I’m Killian, and if possible, I know even less about what’s going on.” He lifted his wine. “I think I’ll give up trying to figure out anything and just drink.”

Rose wished she’d had time to ask more, but suddenly Major Chamberlain drew all her attention. His time in the military must have taught him to bully and bluff his way through life as though everyone were under his command. Rose had never been sure she even liked the man. Talking to him had always seemed more like being interrogated than conversation. He professed his beliefs as if he had his name on a book in the Bible.

“How is your family, Rose?” He snapped the question to her.

“Fine.” She didn’t want to say more, but he pushed.

“Your father? He still running that huge ranch?”

“Yes.”

“I hear about your uncle now and then. The famous Texas Ranger who went into law. Very unusual for a half-breed.”

Rose wasn’t sure that was a question so she said nothing, but a smile tickled at the corner of her lip. If the McMurrays heard the major call Travis a half-breed, they’d probably take turns beating him to death. The three brothers considered themselves double blessed by being both Irish and Apache.

The major continued, “Times are good finally. The McMurrays must be making the money. Of course, with all the kids running around, it probably costs a fortune just to outfit the clan, or should I say
tribe
.”

He waited, as if expecting her to give him an accounting. In truth, he barely knew her family. Her papa met him once when he’d picked up Emily and her from school at the same time the major collected his daughter. Teagan McMurray had said very little to him. Papa Teagan seldom talked to people he liked and was usually silent to those he didn’t.

Killian lifted his glass, drawing the major’s attention. “I’ve heard of your family, miss. A fine family of heroes and statesmen.”

The major frowned, but Rose smiled at the thin man. He’d willingly saved her by drawing fire.

Victoria quickly pulled her father back her direction and rattled all the way through lunch, first with plans of the wedding and then all about how dear Rose was to her.

Rose tried to smile. She even felt a little guilty about thinking so rarely of a woman who apparently claimed she loved her like a sister. She thought of all the crises she and Emily had helped Victoria through, but she couldn’t think of one time Tori had saved her, or even tried to cheer her up. Yet she couldn’t deny Tori had a kind of magic surrounding her. She lived life in her own kind of world and looked at things differently than anyone Rose had ever known.

Halfway through dinner, the major was called away on business, leaving Rose alone with Killian and Tori. Before Rose could think of anything to say, Victoria touched her arm. “I know you have a fitting so I’ll meet you upstairs in a few minutes.”

She stood like a queen and walked out of the dining room behind her father.

Killian had stood when Victoria rose, but she hadn’t even looked his direction. Rose watched as he almost ran toward the garden door, straight out into the rain.

Left sitting alone at the table filled with half-eaten lunch plates and half-empty wineglasses, Rose decided it was going to be a long week until the wedding.