Foxfire Bride (24 page)

My Lord. She touched trembling fingertips to her lips.

There definitely was a spark between them. She absolutely was not going to hate kissing him.

It was the longest day of her life. Fox continually frowned at the sky, positive the sun refused to move.

She completed her chores in record time. Spit-shined her boots. Pinned and repinned her hair a half dozen times. Asked Peaches if he knew a recipe for lotion that didn't involve bacon grease. Something sweet-smelling would be preferable, but unfortunately, Peaches lacked the ingredients to concoct anything immediately. Then she considered the matter of clothes.

What did a person wear to a liaison? Probably nothing that Fox owned. Taking her saddlebags into her tent, she examined her meager collection of travel duds. The pantaloons that she wore under her trousers were plain white cotton with no trim. The same description fit her chemise. Her unders didn't boast a scrap of lace to excite a man's imagination.

Sighing, she turned her attention to her trousers. She could choose between black, brown, and gray trousers. Topped by one of three plain white linen shirts that would have fit a large man. The only items with any style were two overlarge waistcoats, one that was dull as toast for everyday wear and one with a fancy pattern for wearing to town.

She suspected that a liaison should begin with the woman wearing a flowing lacy night shift that swirled around her hips and ankles. But Fox had never owned such an item.

Sighing heavily, she frowned at the clothing strewn around the inside of her tent. Very likely it didn't matter what she wore since she wouldn't be wearing it long.

This thought led to a consideration of her body. Was she too fat, too skinny, too short, or too tall? She had no idea what Tanner preferred. Would he be aroused or disappointed to discover that she had full breasts and hips? Did he fancy soft fleshy women or firm women with strong arms and thighs? And there was the freckle question. Like most redheaded women, a spray of freckles dusted her nose and cheeks, and dotted her chest and shoulders. Would Tanner consider her freckles charming or would he view them as an unpleasant flaw?

Fox rolled her eyes. Lordy, she would be glad when this evening was over. She was driving herself crazy.

Just as she had predicted, when suppertime at last arrived she could hardly swallow a bite.

"Looks like I wasted my time making that rabbit extra tasty," Peaches commented, watching Fox push her food around her plate.

"Eat up," Jubal Brown advised. "You need your strength." He and Hanratty snickered until they looked at Tanner, then they fell silent and went back to eating.

Naturally the men had guessed that tonight was special. Fox and Tanner were both shiny clean and gussied up in their town clothes. Tanner's hair was slicked back and carefully parted and Fox wore hers brushed into a coil on top of her head. They might as well have worn signs around their necks announcing: The liaison begins tonight.

After eating, Tanner lit a cigar, displaying no hint of haste. When it didn't appear that he was going anywhere, Fox accepted a smoke, too. Inside she was quaking with impatience, but conceded it would be better to wait until the sun started to go down. At least another endless forty-five minutes.

Eventually Peaches suggested chess or checkers but there were no takers. After finishing his cigar, he fetched his harmonica and played a few slow sweet tunes. Fox fixed her gaze on distant mountain peaks and didn't look at anyone, especially Tanner. She feared if she glanced at Tanner, her nerves would jump out of her skin.

"Can't you play anything livelier?" Hanratty finally asked.

While Peaches considered the request, Tanner stood and extended a hand to Fox. He cleared his throat. "Would you care to take a walk?"

She considered the deepening orange and red spreading across the western horizon as if she were thinking it over before she accepted his hand and stood. "I believe I would." Her cheeks blazed as fiery as the sunset.

"I could use a walk, too," Jubal Brown said, grinning. "How about you, Hanratty? We'll join them."

"That's enough," Peaches admonished mildly. "You stay right here. I'll play you some dance tunes."

"Are you sure you want to miss the dancing?"

Brown called as Fox and Tanner walked away from the fire.

"Even though I'm the one who told them, I hate it that they know," Fox said tightly. She could hear Peaches's harmonica and Hanratty and Brown laughing, but she and Tanner had walked out of earshot.

"They would have known anyway. You were right about secrets being impossible in a group this small."

"Are we going far?" Not being in control was almost as unnerving as knowing what was about to happen.

"A few more minutes."

Fox wet her lips and reminded herself to breathe when Tanner took her hand. As she still couldn't bring herself to look at him, she gazed up at the sky. "There's the evening star. You showed it to me when we were in the outlaws' camp."

He laughed. "Can you predict where the Big Dipper will appear?"

Of course she could. She wouldn't be much of a scout if she didn't have a sixth sense for direction. But she went all girly and told a rare lie. "I'm not sure," she said in a voice that didn't quite sound like her own. "Can you show me?"

Tanner lifted an arm and pointed at the sky. After drawing a breath, Fox stepped close enough that her cheek almost touched his shoulder and she sighted up his arm. The sky had darkened to deep indigo and a few faint stars had begun to appear.

But Fox saw nothing. Her full concentration centered on the inch between her back and Tanner's chest. The scent of soap and river lingered on his shirt, and she felt his breath stirring her hair when he lowered his head. She closed her eyes and prayed that her knees wouldn't collapse.

"Your hair smells like lemon and sunshine," he murmured, his voice husky. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body. For a moment he held her in a loose embrace, laying his cheek against the top of her head.

Then he gently turned her in his arms and tilted her mouth up to his. Fox's heart lurched and a long sigh escaped her lips. This time his kiss was tender, unhurried. His hands lay light on her waist.

What surprised her was the absence of clutching. He didn't grab her fanny or breasts, didn't turn wild and go at her like there was a two-minute deadline to get this over with. Tanner kissed her as if kissing was a pleasurable end in itself.

Easing back, he gazed down then frowned. "Are you crying?"

"No," she said, blinking hard. She appreciated it so much that he didn't grab at her. "I don't cry."

Tanner examined her damp eyes in the faint starlight, then clasped her hand and led her toward a thick stand of willows not far from the riverbank. "Now if I can find the entrance." He lit a lucifer and held it high.

SomeoneTanner, of coursehad cut the willows at ground level, creating an entry into the center of the tangle.

"Wait here for a moment."

Fox drew a deep breath and held it, listening to her heart slam against her rib cage. Even though she knew she was experiencing the best part right now, knew that the actual coming together would be a frustrating disappointment, some perverse corner of her mind felt an urgency to get on with it. She wanted to touch his naked chest and look at his thighs. Men had beautiful legs, long and muscled and strong.

A glow of light appeared deep within the growth of willows. Quickly Fox checked to see how far the light penetrated a thick growth of foliage. Relieved, she decided those back at camp wouldn't notice.

Tanner loomed before her and placed his big hands on her shoulders. "If you change your mind at any time just say so."

His hands felt proprietary and possessive, which felt oddly reassuring. "I won't change my mind," Fox whispered.

He guided her into the entry far enough to discover the source of light was a lantern illuminating a small room that made Fox think of a nest. He'd cut the willows in a rough circle, and used the branches and leaves to cushion the ground. Over the branches, he'd spread blankets and a couple of pillows.

"It's wonderful," Fox murmured. The leafy scent of the willows rose around them and she could hear the river nearby. Tonight the rushing water tossed and splashed, creating music accompanied by crickets and the occasional bass of a frog.

"We have a jug of coffee and another of water." Tanner bent over a basket Fox hadn't noticed until now. "Mr. Hernandez made tarts out of dried apricots."

The basket and its contents startled her. When did he plan to eat tarts? Refined folks certainly didn't go about this sort of thing the way crude ordinary folks did. Fox was certain of that. In this situation, the men she knew would have been finished by now and headed to the saloon for a drink. They wouldn't have brought a picnic to dawdle over.

Tanner sat on the blanket and removed the jug of coffee. "Would you like a cup?"

"Might as well." Since nothing else was happening. Fox sat on the blanket facing him, and hoped the lantern light shining on her face made her look nice. Thanks to the bacon grease, her cheeks and lips were no longer chapped. She thought it might be possible that she could bear up under a light shining in her face.

"This should be wine," Tanner said, touching his cup to hers. "Something special and extravagant."

Fox wet her lips, growing more nervous by the minute. "I'd just as soon have coffee. Or, better yet, whiskey. Of course I've never had any wine that was special or extravagant."

He gazed at her, his smile moving slowly over her face. "To a memorable night."

"To a memorable night," she said, repeating the toast and wishing things would start getting memorable. "Are we going to eat the apricot tarts now?"

"If you like." His gaze moved to the open collar of her shirt.

"Actually, I'm wondering if maybe you changed your mind about this." When he lifted an eyebrow, she rushed on. "I mean, the coffee and the tarts I thought we came here to, well, you know. I'm confused about whether you came here to, you know, or to have coffee and dessert."

Fox raised a hand to her forehead and silently cursed. She prided herself on being plainspoken, but she couldn't bring herself to say "have sex" or "make love." All she could manage was "you know."

Tanner caught her hand and brought it to his lips. "We're in no hurry, Fox. We have all night."

Well, my God. No one had ever kissed her fingertips, and she had never for a minute imagined that someone might. Or that she would like it. When he released her hand, she examined her fingertips then clasped her hand in her lap.

"I never met the likes of you," she said after a moment. Did he expect her to kiss his fingertips? She guessed she wouldn't mind. He had big, well-shaped hands that looked capable of whatever demands were placed on them.

"And I've never met anyone like you."

This was turning into a night of surprises. Fox could have sworn that she read admiration in his gaze. A wave of pleasure swept the surface of her skin.

"I don't suppose it's common for folks like you and me to get together like this." But then, she'd heard that opposites attract. That might explain the tension that sparked and flashed between them and the way she'd been drawn to him from the start.