Courting Miss Hattie (44 page)

Read Courting Miss Hattie Online

Authors: Pamela Morsi

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Courting Miss Hattie
8.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"I know." The certainty in his voice startled Reed, but Bessie Jane seemed to find nothing amiss. "Bessie Jane, about that other, I want you to know that I would never say or do anything to compromise your reputation. What happened between us was so unmemorable, it's completely forgotten."

"You don't have to tell me that," she said. "I would feel safe to trust you with my life, not just my secrets. Besides, the only person who really matters to me is Harm, and he already knows."

Reed's face paled. "He knows?"

"I told him so he would give up and leave me alone, but he didn't. He loves me enough to forget the past."

Reed stared at her, absorbing the words before understanding dawned in his eyes. "So
that
was the jawbreaker punch."

"What?"

"Never mind," he answered, and screwed his face into an expression of grave concern. "Just do me a favor, Bessie Jane. I'm sure Hattie is as forgiving as Harm, but let's not put her to the test, okay?"

She giggled at Reed's feigned terror. "So you
are
happy with Miss Hattie," she said. "I'm so glad. It bothered me to think of you alone, and you've always just thought she was wonderful."

"She is."

"Everything has turned out for the best, hasn't it?"

Reed couldn't help but agree.

"I'd best go rescue Harmon," she said, "before old Drayton talks his ears off." She turned to go,
then
hesitated, looking back. "You'll always be special in my heart," she said, and impulsively threw her arms around his shoulders.

His sweet little kiss was one strictly reserved for sisters, and Bessie Jane accepted it as offered. As she hurried off to find her husband, Reed glanced up and saw Hattie coming down the church steps. Her face was pale and troubled.

* * *

Hattie's expression was as cloudy as the
Arkansas
sky in a rainstorm as the buggy kept a leisurely pace back to the farm. On both sides of the road, as far as the eye could see, cotton was lush and ripe, the bolls just beginning to burst. Reed surveyed the prophecy of a good harvest dispassionately. His mind was focused on the woman at his side.

When he'd taken her arm to escort her to the buggy, she'd smiled sweetly. Still, it was obvious she was troubled. And unlike that morning, when he'd been sure he could help end her worries, he was now concerned that he might be the cause of them.

The little peck he'd given Bessie Jane had been impulsive and foolish. Married men did not going around kissing other women, even if they had been engaged to them for several months.
Especially
if they had been engaged to them for several months!

His visage grim, Reed berated himself. He had threatened Drayton with bodily harm to keep him from hurting Hattie's feelings. Then he had immediately done something potentially much more hurtful. Glancing over at Hattie, he captured her attention, and she smiled at him. She didn't appear angry or hurt. It was concern that lined her face. Reed didn't know how to smooth those lines away. Drawing her close, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Maybe he couldn't make it better, but he could hold her.

Melting into the comforting embrace of her husband, Hattie tried to forget the words ringing loudly in her ears:
If I
had
two men itching
to
marry me for my land, I'd
choose
the young stud over the
old
geezer myself.
Hattie was aware that the truth could be a good deal more painful than the most hideous lie. Reed had offered her no more than
Ancil
had. He'd spoken no words of love, no vows of undying devotion. She had agreed to marry him for exactly the reasons that Mary Nell suspected. She desired his body and felt like a woman in his arms.

Snuggling closer to him, she sighed deeply. The scent of Reed Tyler, her Reed Tyler, filled her nostrils and made her mouth curve in a smile. She was wanton with
him,
there was no way to avoid that truth. But was it simple lust and animal instinct like Romeo and Mabel, or was it more? It wasn't lust that made her laugh a dozen times a day at his wit and charm. Nor was the pleasant companionship she felt working by his side base or wanton. Her feelings for him were not easy to describe, not easy to label.

He was her friend, her closest friend, but he was more. From the moment her eyes opened in the morning to his last kiss before she drifted off to sleep, Reed Tyler was primary in her thoughts. What he felt, thought, wanted, or needed filled her mind as surely as her own concerns. Not as a mother or sister cared about the hurts and joys of a man but as the woman who shared those hurts and joys, as the woman who loved him.

She loved him. As clearly now as they had been obscured before, she saw that her feelings were not lust or friendship. Safe in his warm embrace, her head on his shoulder, she realized that she loved Reed Tyler. When had this come about? What day had her childhood friend turned into the man of her dreams? And why had she refused to acknowledge the truth? It was not something that had happened yesterday or the day before, not even on her wedding day. Her love for him had existed for months, maybe years, when he was not free, when there was no hope in her heart of ever having it returned.

Her love had been like an embarrassing secret, and she'd hidden her own face from the reality. Her land, the only thing she thought she had to offer, had been his for the taking since her mother died. Ignoring opportunities to better her life and increase her stake, she'd held steadfastly to her decision to sell the land to Reed. If he had her land, he would have a part of her, and she would always be in his life. As the realization wafted through her, she closed her eyes in shame. How vainly she had prided herself on her independence. It had been a ploy, a ploy to keep her close to and dependent on the man she loved.

Reed pulled the buggy up to the back door, and Hattie disengaged herself from his embrace, but not before he'd planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "You do trust me, don't you, Hattie?" he whispered against her hair.

Surprised at his words, she looked up at him quizzically. "Yes, of course I do."

"And you know that I would never break my marriage vows to you. That I would never even want to." His eyes were dark with concern and she felt herself melting.

Gently she ran her hand along his cheek and jaw. She had watched him shave that very morning, but still she could feel the slight roughness that made his face so different from her own. "I know you are kind and honorable and true, Reed Tyler. You wouldn't speak a wedding vow that you didn't intend to keep."

"Then you're not upset about Bessie Jane?"

She raised her eyebrows. "What about Bessie Jane?"

Reed hesitated. If she hadn't seen, why tell? But someone else may well have seen. Better to hear it from him lips than from someone bent on spitefulness. "I was talking with Bessie Jane after church," he said nonchalantly as he jumped from the buggy and reached up to help her down. "I guess we were kind of sorting out our apologies."

As he set her on the ground, Hattie nodded. "Sometimes that's the best way. I hope that Bessie Jane and Harmon will be our friends. I'd hate for the past to hang over us." Her decision made, she patted him on the arm reassuringly. "I'm glad you talked with her, Reed."

He was tempted to let it go at that, but his conscience overruled his caution. "There's more, Hattie."

"More?"

"I kissed her."

A wave of green jealousy almost swamped her as she gaped at him. She stepped away, walking up onto the porch as if distance might give her perspective. "You kissed Bessie Jane out in the churchyard?"

"Just a little kiss," he said quickly. "A very little, very sisterly kiss."

"A peck?"

"Yes, a peck. It was exactly the kind of peck I would have given Mama or Marybeth."

Hattie looked at him for several moments. As the jealous fear ebbed, she saw before her the husband she loved, contrite and honest. She nodded, smiling faintly. "Just don't be giving away my peaches, Plowboy. You know how partial I am to them."

She giggled at the thunderbolt of surprise that crossed his face,
then
walked into the kitchen. She'd left most of the dinner cooked and warming on the stove, and all that was needed was to stoke the fire and mix a batch of corn bread.

She'd barely put her apron on over her good dress when Reed stormed into the kitchen. "Is that it?" he asked, annoyance plain in his voice.

She shrugged. "I believe you, Reed. You kissed Bessie Jane like a sister."

He continued to stare at her, not quite believing her. "You're not even the slightest bit jealous."

"You just told me there was no reason for me to
be
jealous, so I'm not." She spoke with some truth, merely failing to mention that moment of blazing female fury she'd managed to contain. "I should think you'd be glad I trust you."

"I am!" he answered, but the anger in his voice belied his words.

She turned to the stove, but he stayed her hand. "If this ain't the
beatenest
thing I ever saw," he said. "I'm driving home worrying myself into an early grave because I'm thinking my wife has seen me kissing another woman. In fact, she hasn't seen a thing. But I, in my shame and despair, confess the truth to her, and you know what she does? She laughs at me!"

His wild, improbable fury and his logical explanation was so silly, Hattie couldn't stop the burst of laughter that escaped from her lips.

For a moment Reed was stunned, then realizing how foolish he must look and sound, he could hardly blame her. "You're still laughing at me!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the floor to shake her, his anger now obviously feigned. "I come before you like a repentant sinner, and you make jokes."

Hattie could hardly catch her breath. "It's no joke," she managed to say. "I believe that you only gave her a peck."

"That's right," he said sternly. "I only gave her a peck, and you don't care about the pecks as long as you get the peaches."

"It's not that I don't care about them," she replied, swallowing her giggles with difficulty. "I just forgive you."

Reed was still not satisfied. "You forgive too easy, Hattie. You're supposed to make me suffer."

"All right," she said cheerily. "Nothing for you but bread and water for a week."

He nuzzled her neck and nipped her ear. "If it's your bread, that's not even a punishment. You know it's the best-tasting in the county."

Her heartbeat quickened as he left a fiery trail of
lovebites
on her neck. "Then what should a wife to do to her errant husband?" she asked breathlessly.

His hand finding its way to her breast, he kneaded her soft flesh as his lips returned to hers. "Make me beg, make me plead for your forgiveness," he whispered against her mouth.

"Yes, oh, yes."

To her surprise, Reed immediately released her and dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands clasped together, he raised them in supplication. "Hattie, precious Hattie, my devoted wife, I have wronged thee. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I forgive you," she answered between giggles.

"No, can you ever
really
forgive me?"

"I do forgive you."

He maintained his show of disbelief. "What can I ever do to make it up to you?"

She giggled again. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"You're right. I'll think of something." He grinned wickedly. "I already have an idea."

"I don't like that look," Hattie warned him.

"But you're going to like my idea. You say you like peaches. I'm going to show you a new kind of peach."

"A new kind of peach?"

"Uh-huh," he
said,
pure devilment in his husky tone. "I call these nasty peaches."

Without another word he grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled her skirt over his head.

Hattie shrieked his name as he grasped her buttocks and pressed his face against the crux of her drawers. "Reed
Tyler
! What are you doing?" she asked, her legs trembling at the intensity of this new sensation.

His answer was unintelligible as he was preoccupied with undoing the drawstring on her drawers with his teeth. When the drawers had dropped around her ankles, he backed her against the kitchen counter. Balancing her on the edge, he raised her legs off the floor and eased her thighs apart. Slowly, ever so slowly, his lips sweetly gave her the most succulent of peaches. Hattie's words were lost in whimpers as she clawed the curtains at the kitchen window behind her. Desperately she sought something to grasp to hold her to the earth.

Arching her back, muscles taut almost to the point of pain, she screamed his name as her husband's questing mouth introduced her most thoroughly to the erotic delights of nasty peaches.

 
CHAPTER
 
23

Other books

David Mitchell: Back Story by David Mitchell
Killing Ground by Douglas Reeman
Royally Seduced by Marie Donovan
Red Mortal by Deidre Knight
Her First by Mckenzie, Diamond
Randa by Burkhart, Nicole
Gray's Girl by Mina Carter
My Father's Gift by Hall-Rayford, Mary M
A Catered Fourth of July by Isis Crawford