Wildblossom (24 page)

A clock in another part of the house struck seven, rousing her, and she emerged from the tub, wrapping herself in a robe and her wet hair in a towel. She had just slipped into a fresh blouse when she heard a knock at her window. At first Shelby thought she was hearing things—or perhaps it was a jay, breaking open a seed. But when the sound came again, she hurriedly pulled on a pair of denim pants and drew back the curtain.

There was Geoff, balancing on a shiny new bicycle, waving to her. "Come out for a ride," he called.

How irresistible he was, eyes twinkling, the sleeves of his pin-striped shirt rolled up, his Stetson replaced by a straw boater set at a jaunty angle. And Shelby couldn't resist. She didn't allow herself to even think, but finished dressing and quickly pinned her damp hair atop her head before dashing through the house to meet him. Manypenny watched with a dubious smile as Shelby emerged onto the veranda and saw the gramophone perched on the top step. Round and round went the new record while a tenor voice sang,
"In the good old summertime, in the good old summertime... Strolling through the shady lanes with your baby mine..."

It was like a dream. Geoff steadied the bicycle with one foot on the ground and extended his arms to welcome her. Shelby had no qualms about sitting between his legs, sidesaddle on the bar, and if Manypenny hadn't been watching from the veranda, she might have turned her face up to his for more than a smile.

When they set off, the bicycle wobbled precariously, and Shelby's laughter was music to Geoff's ears. Gradually, as they gained speed and the threat of toppling over at any moment passed, Geoff let go of the handlebars with one hand and wrapped it around her little waist.

It came to him then how much existed between them, not just this potent attraction, but a deep friendship, too. Just the sensation of her body against his, as she had been the night they'd ridden Charlie home from the rustling adventure, was profoundly satisfying. Her damp hair was scented from her bath, and her ear and neck were alluringly moist when his face touched her there.

The last strains of the song came to them from the veranda:
"You hold her hand and she holds yours, and that's a very good sign... That she'll be your tootsie wootsie in the good old summer-time!"
They rolled down the lane to the valley road, passed under the crude wooden arch that bore a carving of the Sunshine Ranch brand, and turned south, following a row of quaking aspen.

"I surmise that 'tootsie wootsie' is an American endearment," Geoff remarked at length with wry amusement.

"Well, perhaps it comes from New York," she allowed with a straight face. Then, unable to restrain herself, Shelby added, "This bicycle is just splendid. How do you hatch these ideas?" All the unspoken difficulties that had stood between them in recent weeks were swept away on the warm evening breeze.

"Jakie Schwoob suggested it...." His cheek rested against her hair. "Would you be angry if I told you that I actually bought you your own ladies' bicycle... but I gave it away on a whim?"

"To Vivian Croll?"

"You and I think alike." Geoff steered the front tire around a rock, then related the story of his confrontation with Bart Croll that day. "I think I must have been having some sort of heat stroke during the trip back here, because it suddenly came to me that Vivian should have a bicycle—that perhaps it might bring her some pleasure. The idea that we might somehow help her to smile is hard to resist."

"I certainly don't mind riding a man's bicycle—and I hope you're right about Vivian. Maybe I'll send a note to ask if she wants to practice with me." She fell silent for a bit then, and they both soaked up their own pleasure. There was something mysteriously thrilling about the way he balanced her on the bicycle bar, his long-muscled equestrian's legs pumping smoothly so that she no longer feared they might tip over. "Do you know, I've never ridden a bicycle before! I've always wanted to, but Deadwood is built on the walls of a canyon, and my family's house is on a street that goes nearly straight up and down."

"I'm glad, then, that this bicycle turned up for us. You and I both needed a bit of fun. And we needed to laugh... together." When they were a mile or more down the road, well out of sight of the ranch house and corral, Geoff let the bicycle coast for a bit, gradually dropping his feet down for balance.

They came to a standstill, and Shelby leaned back into the familiar contours of his chest, her eyes closed against a wave of bittersweet happiness. He wrapped his arms around her. It was good to feel the thin cotton of her blouse and the warm, firm flesh of her upper arms.

"I've been missing you, scamp."

His tender tone made her heart tighten. Turning, Shelby let her upper body meld with Geoff's, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in the hard strength of his shoulder, breathing in his mixture of London and Wyoming scents. Words failed her.

Geoff's hands traveled over her back as if committing her to memory. Through the fabric of Shelby's blouse, he discerned a delicately ribbed undergarment identical to the one she'd worn to bed with him. He wanted to cup her breasts again, to kiss them, to feel her nipples pucker against his tongue. Instead he settled for tipping her face up and searching her eyes.

Shelby reached to touch his hair, agleam in the gathering twilight, and the side of his jaw. "I've missed you, too."

His body urged him to put the bicycle down and lead her into a grove of trees. Something more powerful than passion gripped him so intensely he could taste it. Yet, he had to rein himself in or Shelby would never trust him to be alone with her again. He forced himself to be gentle, to cradle her in his arms and kiss her with measured restraint.

But she felt the chemistry, too, and opened her mouth with a muffled groan. Her breasts tingled; a slow flush spread over her body. However, she wasn't so enthralled that she couldn't sense that Geoff was holding back. Her women's instincts intervened to protect her.

When their mouths parted, Shelby made herself look into Geoff's hooded eyes. She saw the arousal and the conflict, and knew that they must face reality together. "Oh, Geoff... there's someone waiting for you in England, isn't there?"

His head snapped back almost imperceptibly.
The letter! That's why it had been half out of the compartment in the wardrobe trunk.
He didn't fault her for searching; she'd done what she had to do to protect herself.

A sigh burned his throat. "I'm afraid it's true. I've had obligations since birth. But that doesn't mean it's what I want... or that I haven't begun to question the future others have planned for me."

"Well... it's better that I know, isn't it?"

"I should have told you sooner, Shelby."

"No." She rested her face against his wide shoulder, savoring the feeling while she could. "No, I'm glad you didn't. I wouldn't change a thing that happened. I promise."

Chapter 12

In July the road from Cody to Yellowstone was finished and Geoff decided to visit the magnificent wilderness. A family friend had traveled there twenty-five years ago, and Geoff had never forgotten the stories he'd heard as a child.

Perhaps more importantly, it seemed a good idea to put some distance between himself and Shelby. Since the evening he'd taken her bicycle riding, Geoff felt more torn than ever about their relationship. If they just kept getting closer, wouldn't there be more pain in the end?

Yet, riding home one hot, windy afternoon at the end of July, following his days in the wilderness, Geoff dared to wonder if there might not be another answer. His time alone in Yellowstone had left him aching for Shelby. He wouldn't have to return to England for good until next spring... and now he considered the possibility that she might love him enough to come back with him.

Perhaps he was just dreaming, he thought, instead of facing reality, for he had yet to figure out what to do about Lady Clem or his parents. He'd given his word that, after one year of travel, he would return and fulfill his obligations without complaint.

He just hadn't counted on Shelby—on emotions he hadn't believed were possible. Passing the entrance to William F. Cody's TE Ranch, he straightened in the saddle and urged Charlie to pick up his pace. The Sunshine Ranch wasn't far now.

It felt like coming home.

* * *

Furtively, Shelby leaned against the fireplace and studied the advertisement in her fashion book for the "Princess Bust Developer." Nearby, on the same page, was a drawing of a huge jar bearing a label that shouted,
Unrivaled for Enlargement of the Bust.
What sort of bosom did Lady Clementine Beech have? she wondered.

"What're you frowning at?" Ben Avery looked over her shoulder as he spoke, before she could slap the
Harper's Bazaar
closed. "Aw, Shel—what would Maddie say if she could see you looking at stuff like that?"

Cheeks burning, Shelby tried to retain a semblance of composure. "Mama knows what it means to be a woman. She would probably be glad to know I'm thinking about something besides guns and horses."

He looked her over. "That's for sure. I can't figure out for the life of me what has got into you. One day you're out branding calves and strutting around in pants, and the next day you start wearing dresses and putting doilies on every table in the house!"

"I'm a girl, that's all. And these clothes are cooler than heavy denim trousers." Still blushing furiously, Shelby smoothed the creamy voile layers of her skirt and glanced at herself in the nearby mirror. She looked almost as good as the models in
Harper's Bazaar.
Her luxuriant curls were perfect for the Gibson Girl style, unlike poor Vivian Croll's hair, which was too thin to hold together. Helping Vivian had been a good excuse for Shelby's own experiments with her appearance, and until now Ben hadn't grown suspicious.

"I never could figure out females," he muttered.

She gave him a wide smile. It was funny how keenly she'd felt Geoff's absence, for she'd never been particularly sentimental in the past. Shelby had tried to stay occupied by visiting Vivian, and her friend's cooking and sewing gradually piqued her interest in more feminine pursuits—those that had to do with making herself look more attractive and feathering the ranch house nest.

Then, almost immediately, Shelby began to fantasize about Geoff's homecoming. She imagined that he'd come through the door, stare at her, spellbound by her beauty, and then look around at the pretty touches she'd added to the house. There were bright bouquets of flowers on every table, new gingham curtains, and ruffled pillows. It might have been mistaken for a love nest... if not for all the other men around, and the fact that the absent Geoffrey Weston was betrothed to another woman.

But that last circumstance was cast aside in Shelby's fantasy, crushed by the force of true love. Each hot July night, she lay in bed under a sheet and spun her dreams. They all shared the same essence: Geoff would renounce his birthright, his title, his engagement, his country, his
obligations—and stay with Shelby on
their
ranch, where he was happy. It was the only outcome that made sense, after all.

And after weeks of fantasy, reality now seemed hazy and uncertain.

"I gotta say this, you sure look pretty." Ben touched the high, lace-trimmed collar on her dress and smiled. "In some ways, you're prettier than Maddie was at your age, because you're so... lively. You've got a way about you she didn't have until she was older. Fox had to bring it out in her, I guess."

"Daddy is still the one person who understands what Mama is capable of," she agreed. "I wish we weren't so far away. I'd love to visit them right now."

"Yeah. You're just going through a phase, though, right?" His rugged face had a worried boy look. "Titus says he thinks you're just checking to make sure you know how to be a girl, and that's fine, as long as you aren't givin' up on shooting and—"

"Don't worry, Uncle Ben, I won't give up my rifle...." Through the window, she glimpsed Mr. Manypenny, rocking on the veranda and discreetly mopping his brow with a handkerchief. "I think I'll take some lemonade to our British friend."

Ben went off to check on their crops and she poured two glasses of lemonade and took them outside. Manypenny glanced up in surprise.

"How very kind of you, Miss Matthews. I'm most appreciative." He silently surveyed her appearance. "I must confess I scarcely recognize you these days."