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BOOK: Cassandra Austin
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“Of course not,” she murmured. Her arms had encircled his waist, and she waited for his next kiss.

He let her wait a full four seconds. During that
time, she imagined living with him, seeing him every day, waking with him in the morning. She shouldn’t let him know how much she loved him, she thought as his lips finally claimed hers again. She let his tongue explore her mouth and pressed herself more firmly against him. If he knew she loved him, he would control her life even more than he did already. Besides, he would want to take advantage. The thought made her tremble clear to her toes.

Andrew felt his powers of reason being sucked away by Cally’s warm, responsive lips. Something had been nagging at his brain, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate on it. Instead all he could think of was how to get Cally to say she loved him.

He had to be sensible before he ended up seducing her again. And hiring her as his housekeeper was not what he had in mind. He broke off the kiss, putting her firmly but gently away from him…at least a couple inches away. In his desperation he fell back on an old argument he had nearly forgotten himself.

“Cally,” he said, “a lawman can’t be worrying about his woman. It makes him cautious, and that can get him killed.” It seemed to him at that moment that being cautious could also save his life. He found himself wanting to shake his head to clear it.

“But you told me a long time ago you worried about me. That was why you wouldn’t leave me on the farm alone. This would be better because I wouldn’t be alone.”

Andrew gazed into the green eyes. She was so beautiful when she smiled. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. Twice.

“It wouldn’t matter to the folks in town,” she went
on, “because I’d just be your housekeeper. Lots of folks have housekeepers, especially people with big houses.” She waved her hand toward the skeletal frame visible above the little soddy.

Andrew was at a loss for a second. He knew it was inevitable that this little hellion be part of his household, but not as his housekeeper. She was supposed to love him! Now, if he asked her to marry him, she would think he was worrying about appearances. As if being reelected sheriff was more important than her reputation! He had teased her earlier about living in sin, but even she must know he couldn’t live with her and leave her alone.

He imagined himself saying, “You have to stay with the Gwynns until you fall in love with me.” Surely there were reasonable arguments against her suggestion that wouldn’t damage his own cause, but he couldn’t think of them with her sweet body so close. He paced a distance away from Cally and turned his back on her.

The air seemed cooler when there was some space between him and Cally. He breathed deeply, hoping it would clear his mind. And suddenly he knew what had been bothering him. When Cally professed disbelief in the gambling note, his first thought had been that it might be a forgery.

His next thought was that her eyes seemed impossibly green and he didn’t like it when she moved away from him. Even now he had to fight an urge to turn to see if she watched him. He forced himself to concentrate.

A forgery. He should have thought of it before. Terris, the safecracker. Stedwell, the forger. Was Val
Milton connected to Francine and her questions about the bank? He had been so pleased to have an excuse to move Cally into town that he hadn’t even considered it.

“I’m a good cook,” Cally said, bringing him back to the present question.

He turned and studied her for a moment. She looked small and frightened. Above all else, he loved her and needed to protect her.

She might have sensed that he was weakening. “I don’t want to go back to the old ladies,” she pleaded, stepping closer.

He realized as well that he wanted her to be happy. “You can live in your old house,” he said. “But don’t run my carpenters off again.”

“And when the new house is finished?” she asked.

“When the house is finished…I’ll think of something.”

Before he had finished speaking, she threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Andrew closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feel of her in his arms. Gently he drew her away. “This is a strange way to spend your birthday, Cally.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What makes you think it’s my birthday?”

“Your father wrote the date in the Bible. You’re eighteen today.”

She shrugged her shoulders, making a show of not caring.

“I brought you a present.” The delight he had hoped to see on her face looked more like suspicion. She didn’t trust him yet. Well, he couldn’t really
blame her, but he intended to change that, perhaps this afternoon.

He went to his horse and untied the basket. Turning back toward Cally he considered a moment. The soddy was not at all inviting. He thought about spreading the lunch on the floor of what would be his new house but dismissed it. He would not have her thinking of herself as his housekeeper when they shared their first meal there.

The only shade closer than the little creek was the apple tree on the hill. It was near her parents’ graves, but he had a feeling that wasn’t something that would bother Cally. They could spread the lunch on the far side of the tree, anyway.

“I tried to invite you on a picnic once before,” he said, offering her his arm. “Would you join me now?”

Cally eyed him for a moment. She wasn’t sure how to take his behavior. He continued to say he loved her, but he didn’t mention marriage. That shouldn’t surprise her; he had already told her lawmen should be single. While he hadn’t exactly agreed to let her be his housekeeper, he had agreed to let her live in her soddy until his house was built. After that was still uncertain. He said he would think of something. Well, if he didn’t, she would. She wasn’t leaving him again. She tried to amend the thought to “leaving her farm,” but it was too late.

Deciding she was thinking too much, she took the arm he offered and let him lead her to the apple tree. She stood by as he spread a tablecloth on the ground. When he set his hat aside she was tempted to run her
fingers through the dark hair. She let the breeze do it instead.

It would be easy to let him love her again. She knew it would happen sometime if he let her stay. She imagined lying on the tablecloth, while the breeze played over their bare skin. She felt a smile curve the corners of her mouth. This love fever between them was very strong.

Andrew chose that moment to look up at her. She hoped she had gotten rid of the smile in time. He eyed her rather quizzically so she doubted it. “Cally? Do you want to sit down?”

“Oh. Sure.” She sat down quickly then tried to adjust the skirt that had moved a tad more slowly. When she felt decent again, she smoothed the gray fabric on her lap for several seconds before looking at him again.

He was intent on laying out the food, and Cally allowed herself to study him. He was better dressed than usual, and she wondered if these were his Sunday clothes. She wanted to touch the cloth of his coat to see if it felt different, but stopped herself in time. She
had
touched it already, but then she hadn’t been thinking about the coat.

She took a deep breath, trying to control her quivering stomach. It would be stupid to give in to any of the things she felt. She had to remember to be cautious, even if he had told her she could live in her old house. There was still a lot at stake.

It hurt to know he wouldn’t marry her. She had tried to tell herself it didn’t matter. She had never cared what people thought, at least not as much as he did. Still, it seemed like being honest should count
for more than it did. Andrew said people wouldn’t vote for him if he was married, but evidently it was all right for him to live with her if she was his house-keeper, and she had known by the look in his eyes that she would be more than that. But she was learning from the old ladies that a lot of things about town people didn’t really make sense.

“Happy birthday, Cally.”

His voice startled her. She focused on his expectant face before she realized he held a small box toward her. She smiled and his expression changed, but she couldn’t quite read it.

His fingers brushed hers as she took the box. She tried hard to ignore the tingle the touch produced. “Pa’s Bible really says today’s my birthday?”

He simply nodded.

She had only vague recollections of presents, birthdays and Christmas. She wanted to savor this rare moment a little before she opened the box. “And it says I’m eighteen?”

He seemed startled by the question. She supposed most people would have known something like that. He was watching her intently, and she felt a warm shiver spread though her body and hoped her cheeks hadn’t turned pink. She concentrated on opening the little box. “How old are you?” she asked, hoping to distract him.

“Twenty-seven.”

She barely heard. Inside the box was a tiny gold bouquet of flowers. She looked up at Andrew, unable to keep the delight from showing on her face. “It’s beautiful.”

“Here.” Andrew moved closer. “Let me pin it on your dress.”

He was so close her lips could have touched his cheek without hardly trying. Cally inhaled the scent of soap that clung to him until she felt her dress tighten across her breasts. As he pinned the flowers near the top button his fingers seemed to tremble. They brushed her neck, and she closed her eyes to savor his touch.

“I think they look like wildflowers.” Cally only half listened. “They remind me of you.”

Cally’s eyes flew open. “What?”

He seemed surprised at the change in her. She realized that he had been about to kiss her but drew back instead.

“Wildflowers make me think of you,” he repeated. “They’re small and fragile looking but are really quite tough.”

Cally’s eyes narrowed. “I’m like a flower?” She had meant to sound as if she were trying to understand, but there was a little resentment in her voice.

“I didn’t mean it as an insult, Cally.”

Now she had hurt his feelings. She hadn’t meant to. She liked the gift and loved that he had picked it out. But a flower? With nectar to be sampled? She forced a smile. “It’s very pretty. Thank you,” she said, hoping to ease the disappointment she read on his face.

Andrew handed her a slice of bread and a large chunk of cheese, without speaking. She felt her stomach turn into one big knot as she tried to eat. Were the sisters right? Would she ever know for sure if Andrew loved her?

“Cally?” Andrew handed her a pretty stemmed glass. “Do you want some wine?”

Willing her stomach to relax, Cally took the glass. It was almost as pretty as the glasses she had practiced filling at the Gwynns’. This was quite a fancy picnic.

She smiled at Andrew as she brought the glass to her lips. The fumes made her cautious. The tiniest sip made her tongue tingle. She thought it tasted sweet. She took a larger swallow and gasped. It lit a warm trail all the way down to her stomach. She coughed twice.

“Are you all right?” He leaned close, steadying the glass.

“Yes,” she said, taking a deep breath and deciding that she was. “That’s good.” She studied the red liquid a moment before taking another sip. It went down easier.

“Drink it slowly,” Andrew said.

Cally took another sip and set the glass beside her, careful to find a level place so it wouldn’t spill. Andrew moved closer to her, trying to get more comfortable, she supposed. He took a knife from the basket and began slicing an apple.

Cally nibbled on the bread.

“Apple?” He held a wedge between his fingers but when she reached for it he brought it to her mouth instead. She had to grab his hand to steady it as she took a bite. He watched her mouth as she chewed. She swallowed as quickly as she could—then realized she was still holding on to his hand. She swallowed again.

“You have beautiful lips,” he whispered, leaning closer.

She trembled and found herself leaning toward him too. His lips tasted like wine; he gave her plenty of time to notice. But it was a sweet gentle kiss, not the passion-filled one she longed for. She tried to lean closer, but his lips moved away.

“I love you, Cally,” he whispered against her cheek.

Chapter Fourteen

C
ally loved to hear Andrew say it. She didn’t think she should believe him, but when he said it, it was hard not to say it back. She bit her lip, tasting a trace of the wine.

He moved away a few inches and gazed at her. She tried to smile. She wanted him to kiss her again. He must have wanted something else because after a moment he sat upright, retrieving the knife and the apple.

Cally tried to eat again. This was a very strange meal. It was a good thing she wasn’t very hungry. She liked having him kiss her while they ate. When the apple was gone, he tossed the core away and kissed her. When the bread was gone, he kissed her. When he refilled his wineglass and added a few drops to hers, he kissed her. Each time, he told her he loved her. Each time she resisted repeating the words. It was a resolution that was hard to keep. She had to remind herself how much he liked to run her life and that he wouldn’t marry her even if she said it.

At one weak moment, when he kissed her cheek and then her neck, she had almost forgotten. It was
on the tip of her tongue, but she had bit it back, literally. He had drawn away when she yelped. He probably thought she was crazy.

Now, as she watched him pack the bottle and glasses in the basket, she considered her situation more carefully. He already owned her farm. If he knew he owned her heart as well, he would realize that he could ask her to do anything. She should let him think there was still a chance she would say no. And she might. She watched the breeze ruffle his dark hair. Maybe.

She decided she needed to think about something else. “Can you bring my things out from the old ladies’ house?” she asked.

Andrew stood and helped her to her feet. She held her breath, afraid he had changed his mind. She really wanted to live out here again, away from the old ladies. Out here where he could visit her, where he was building a house, where he planned to live. She shook her head and tried to think about her garden.

They had started down the hill before he spoke. “You better ride your mule back to the Gwynns’.”

Cally almost gasped. Briefly she wondered if kissing him might work better than fighting, but she reacted before she could give it serious thought. Stomping one foot and putting both fists on her hips, she said, “I don’t want to go back there! If you won’t let me stay here, I’ll find someplace else.”

Andrew had the nerve to roll his eyes in exasperation. “I only want you to go back to pack your things. I think you should be the one to tell the ladies that you’re leaving. I’ll be along later with the wagon.”

“Oh,” she said. She left him to walk quickly to Jewel. At least she was going to get to stay. There were no doubts in her mind anymore of what she meant to Andrew. She was his flower! Well, there were worse things. He seemed to really enjoy kissing his flower. She sighed as she untied Jewel.

She had agreed to live with him in sin. She wouldn’t let it bother her. She would have her garden and her dogs—and sin. She stifled a giggle. Her thoughts took off on their own far too often. She sprang onto the mule’s back, pulling her skirts down as much as possible. “I won’t have to milk Belle in a dress ever again!” she said aloud. She knew that wasn’t why she was so happy.

Andrew watched her go. His plan to charm her into loving him hadn’t made any progress. Instead he had agreed to let her move back into her old house. And as if that weren’t crazy enough, she thought she was going to be his housekeeper!

He turned away to tie the basket to the saddle horn. He mounted as she rode Jewel up to join him. When he turned to look at her, she gave him such a warm smile, he knew he had made the right decision.

For about three minutes, he knew. After that, he was uncertain again. As he rode alongside her, he tried to make sense of his decision. She was no safer alone in the country now than she had ever been. The fact that he owned the land and would provide her with anything she needed like firewood and food made little difference. He could ask the carpenters to look out for her during the day, but she would again be alone out here at night.

He looked at the girl beside him smiling so trustingly and resolved to come out every night to guard the place. The next moment he realized that was stupid. When, exactly, did he plan to sleep? Besides, if he was caught sneaking out to her farm, whether his motives were to guard her or bed her, it would look bad to the electorate. Before the silent pair parted at Andrew’s home, he had decided that women definitely made their men crazy. Smart lawmen should avoid them completely.

Val Milton watched Haywood ride into town with considerable interest. At his home the sheriff parted not unpleasantly from a little slip of a girl on a mule. Shortly thereafter he left again in a wagon, heading this time into the heart of town. Val ambled down the street a ways, watching, until Haywood turned off into another residential area, avoiding the active main street. Val stopped; there was too big a chance of Haywood realizing he was followed. He was on the edge of the business district as it was, and he didn’t want anyone wondering where he was going.

Val found a shady spot to sit and wait, hoping he looked like a man of leisure enjoying a warm fall afternoon. All the while he kept an eye on the corner where Haywood had turned, assuming he would be coming back eventually.

Eventually wasn’t even thirty minutes. The wagon came around the corner and turned in again at Haywood’s place. The girl was on the wagon seat beside the sheriff, and her mule was tied on behind. All he could make out of the contents of the wagon were a few crates and a rocking chair.

Val chuckled to himself. The illustrious sheriff was moving his honey in with him in broad daylight. He had to admit he admired his style.

It was difficult to find a good vantage point across from Haywood’s house without becoming conspicuous. He didn’t like to wait in any one place very long. Since he expected the sheriff to take the rest of the afternoon seeing that his lady was settled, he prepared to move on. He was half a block away when a mule’s bray brought him around. The wagon pulled out of the yard again, heading out into the country.

Val walked back the way he had come, staring at the departing wagon, forgetting to look inconspicuous. The procession included, besides the mule, a milk cow and both of the dogs that had terrorized Stedwell and Terris. He was even sure he heard the squawk of chickens.

So the sheriff wasn’t moving her into his house. Where in the world was he taking her? Was she just a local girl he was helping somehow? No, he was sure he had seen a look exchanged that meant more than neighborliness. Were his dogs to stay with the girl, he wondered? Val walked swiftly to the livery to rent a horse.

Cally was so excited to be home that she wanted to run around and investigate everything with Royal. She wanted to weed her garden and clean her house. She didn’t know where to start.

And Andrew was being wonderful except for making her talk to the old ladies herself. And even that hadn’t turned out to be as bad as she expected. Easter had actually acted as if she might miss her. Noella
predicted Cally’s doom if she left. She had just launched into her lecture when Andrew had arrived with the wagon. Her savior, she thought.

Now he carried her boxes of produce to her cellar where she could put them on her freshly dusted shelves. “Soon everything will be back where it belongs,” she said as he set the last crate of jars on the dirt floor beside her.

“Including you,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair off her damp cheek.

His tone made her think of kisses, and she turned to him expectantly. He lifted her chin with his finger and she closed her eyes. His kiss was as sweet as ever. If only…she thought and stopped herself. She shouldn’t spoil what she was given by wishing for more.

Andrew might have sensed her hesitation because he eyed her curiously after he ended the kiss. She got busy with her jars.

“I want to have a look at the barn roof,” he said. “You can finish up here?”

Cally nodded. She unloaded the last crate and, taking it and the candle with her, left the cellar. The barn door stood open, and Cally looked toward it more than once as she stacked the crate with the others and took the candle back to the soddy. The next thing she knew she was heading toward the barn.

“Andrew?” she called as she came through the dark doorway.

“Up here.”

Cally climbed the ladder. The sun streaming through the many holes in the roof made it as light as outside. The roof had leaked long enough that
some of the floorboards had rotted through as well. Cally never used the loft for anything. It had been years since Pa had put up enough prairie hay to need the space, anyway.

She watched Andrew move around, studying the roof. She looked up herself and cringed. “Are you trying to decide if it’s worth fixing?” She wished she hadn’t asked; it wasn’t her business.

When he turned toward her he smiled. “Except for the roof, it seems pretty sound.” A moment after he said it, the floor creaked beneath his foot and he stepped back, looking down at the indentation of his foot in the splintered boards. He walked forward, watching his step a little more closely. “All moved in?” he asked.

Cally nodded. “The house is a mess, but it won’t take long to straighten.” She almost told him that it seemed awfully small now. She didn’t want him to think she regretted talking him into this.

“Would you like some help?”

Cally tried to picture him sweeping her dirt floor in his Sunday clothes. She returned his smile. “Thank you, but I can manage.”

“You think I don’t know how to clean.” He came toward her and she thought of Royal stalking a rabbit. “I’ll have you know, young lady, that I do all my own cleaning, or did until I hired two deputy trainees.”

“What?” He towered over her. She loved it when he did that. In a minute his arms would go around her, and he would kiss her again.

“Never mind,” he murmured, scooping her up against him. His lips weren’t as gentle as before. The
urgency reminded her of their night of passion, and Cally knew she should resist. She just had no idea how. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her toes instead.

“What are you thinking, Cally?” he murmured a moment later.

Cally giggled as he nibbled the lobe of her ear. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.” His voice dripped like honey into her ear. “Tell me.”

“I think this is crazy.” She closed her eyes and clung to him for balance.

“What’s crazy?” he coaxed.

“Kissing you,” she said. “I only just quit worrying about a baby.”

With a sigh, Andrew gradually unwound her arms from his waist. “You’re right, of course.”

There was something different in his voice, something almost like anger. He didn’t seem angry though. He looked down at her for a long moment, and Cally wondered if she had hurt his feelings. Evidently she hadn’t said what he had wanted her to. She was afraid to speak again.

Abruptly he said. “I better get back to town.”

She followed him down the ladder and out of the barn. She wanted him to kiss her goodbye but decided that wasn’t real smart. She watched him spring into his wagon. He turned and waved just before he drove out of her yard. His yard, she reminded herself. She shook her head, smiling. “My yard.”

Val Milton had stopped at the creek. There just wasn’t any cover between it and the farmstead. From
that distance he hadn’t been able to make out much more than the fact that Haywood and the girl had unloaded the wagon. When the girl had set the rocking chair down beside the front door and had sat in it for a moment, he got the impression that both chair and girl had been there before.

The pair’s lengthy stay in the barn had made him chuckle.

When Haywood returned to the wagon, Val had headed up the creek to be sure he was well away from the ford. After giving the sheriff plenty of time to get ahead of him, he returned to the hotel for a bath and a tumble with Fancy. He enjoyed a huge dinner in the hotel dining room, then walked the short distance to the Antlers. After two unprofitable hands of poker, he stepped to the end of the bar for a drink. When he saw his chance, he slipped through the door and up the stairs.

The greeting he received was exactly what he had come to expect: a smile from Stedwell, a growl from Terris. The men had been playing cards; Stedwell was obviously winning.

“Any news?” the forger asked.

“A little. It appears the watchdogs have left the Haywood yard. We can hide the money there after all.”

Terris moved to the peephole and looked down on the saloon. Val noticed there was hardly any limp left in his movements. “How would you know this?” he asked.

“Watched him most of the afternoon. I think he moved old DuBois’ daughter back to her home place.”

Stedwell grinned at the idea of the sheriff buying the farm back for the girl.

Terris shrugged. “This is taking too long. I might as well still be in prison, for all the good escaping’s done. Let’s get on with it.”

Now, whose fault is that?
Val wanted to ask but resisted. “Soon,” he said instead. “Go back to Haywood’s tomorrow. Find the perfect spot to hide the money. Someplace that’ll look like he stashed it in a hurry but won’t be too hard for the deputy to find.”

“Where will you be while we’re taking this risk?” asked Terris.

“Keeping watch. Remember my face won’t auto-matically land me in jail.”

Terris snorted. “Won’t the sheriff start to wonder why you’re still hanging around town? Selling that farm ruined your excuse for being here.”

Val nodded. It had occurred to him. “You find a hiding place at Haywood’s in the morning, and we’ll do it tomorrow night.”

“Damn, this place makes me nervous.” Stedwell eyed the empty yard through the hedge.

“The dogs are gone,” Terris growled.

“I hope so,” Stedwell muttered as he followed the safecracker.

At the door, Terris tested the knob, surprised when it turned easily in his hand. “Trusting fella, ain’t he?”

“I like that in a victim,” Stedwell quipped.

Terris concentrated on looking for a hiding place near the back door, but Stedwell walked on into the house. “Take a look at this,” he called after a few minutes.

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