Hillary Kanter - Dead Men Are Easy To Love (19 page)

“You came,” he said, standing. “Let me introduce you to my sister and brother-in-law, Mrs. and Mr. Harry Place.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said. I’m Ariel Richards.”

“I’m Etta,” the well-heeled woman said. She had almond-shaped brown eyes and chestnut-colored hair. Harry had good looks, with twinkling blue eyes and dark auburn hair. They made a handsome couple.

“Glad you could join us,” James said, pulling out a chair for me. He turned to Etta and Harry. “Ariel and I met at that Broadway show I was trying to get you two party-poopers to see this afternoon. I think she was a mite ’fraid of me, bein’ that we just met and all.” He chuckled. “But I’m harmless, ain’t I, Harry? You tell her.”

“Oh, sure,” Harry kidded. “He’s harmless … as a rattlesnake.”

Seated by the window, I couldn’t help but notice the darkening sky. James said the weather was a departure from the relatively warm first few days of February, and even as we discussed the matter, snow began to fall. With none of us anxious to leave, Harry ordered a few bottles of wine and we settled into pleasant conversation.

James’s eyes lit up as he described the places he had lived—Utah, Wyoming, Colorado, and Texas. He painted a picture of himself as a man with wanderlust. It was clear he lived for adventure and intrigue, and probably scorned predictability and routine. Despite his obvious appeal, he did not seem like a man a woman should fall for.

Outside the snow was coming down hard, as Harry and Etta told me about themselves. Harry was a cattle buyer, and a cowboy like James. Etta had been a schoolteacher in Texas, but given it up to marry Harry and travel from place to place and ranch to ranch, herding cattle, then moving on as the spirit moved them.

When asked, I told them I lived uptown and worked as a writer.

“Little lady, you must be half starved,” James finally said. “Whaddaya say I buy you the biggest steak in New York City?”

“Uh … I’m a vegetarian,” I mumbled.

“What’s a vegetarian? I’ve never heard that word. You, Harry? You ever hear that word?”

“Nope, can’t say that I have,” Harry replied. Etta shook her head as well.

Of course they did not know. This was 1901, and vegetarianism must have been a foreign concept.

“It just means I don’t eat meat,” I said.

“Well, why not? It’s good for ya. Put some hair on your chest.” James grinned.

“I guess I don’t like eating anything with a face.”

He looked at me as if a third eye were sprouting from my forehead.

When the waiter took our order, I alone ordered vegetables instead of steak. It was hard to concentrate as I stared outside. Snow was piling up now, and the corner lamppost cast an eerie glow in the fog.

Harry glanced out the window. “I do believe what we have here, boys and girls, is a full-blown Nor’easter on our hands.”

The wine couldn’t hide my nervousness, but talking helped. “How long are you going to be in town, James?” I asked.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. “Well, that all depends.” He took a slow drag. “Harry and Etta here are tryin’ to talk me into goin’ down to South America with them, month’s end. But me … first, I have a little unfinished business out west that I’d like to take care of.”

“What’s in South America?” It seemed a strange choice for a pair of cowboys and a schoolteacher.

“Well, you see, Harry here’s wantin’ to do a little farming, and the three of us have a like mind to see more of the world.”

I wondered how long he would be here. Hell, how long would I be?

“Hey, look,” he said, “that still leaves us three weeks before we’ve got to go, so I say let’s tear up the town. We have plenty of money. You game?”

Already I knew I’d like to see more of him. Judging by the long sultry stares he sent my way, he seemed to be taking an interest in me, too. At this point, my head should have talked some sense to my heart, but good sense had long gone missing.

“I’d love to,” I heard myself respond, with absolutely no hesitation.

Oh, my God, what was I saying
?

“Then it’s settled.” James nodded and gave me a reassuring look. “We’ll visit Coney Island and Central Park. Hell, we’ll even go ice-skating on the lake. You’d like that, ladies, wouldn’t you? We’ll see every show in town, enjoy the night spots.” He gently squeezed my hand, and it felt good.

“That’s all nice and sounds like fun,” I said, “but I’m worried about this weather.” I stared out the window and shivered.

“Aw, you worry too much.” Harry called to the waiter for a bottle of champagne, then said to me. “Let’s finish our dinner, and we’ll deal with all of that later.”

I drank one glass, then another … and another. Shooting occasional glances out the window, I saw that all street activity had come to a halt. There was no question we were stuck in a blizzard. Where would I stay tonight? Did any of the hotels I knew of exist in this era?

“I need to get back uptown for the night,” I blurted out.

“Now don’t you go worryin’ your pretty little head about a thing. Do you think ole James here is gonna leave you to fend for yourself?”

Worryin’ my pretty little head? I didn’t particularly like that comment, but obviously the feminist movement was foreign to him.

Excusing himself from the table, James walked past the bar and stepped outside. He returned a moment later covered with snow and muttering to himself. “Well, here’s the long and the short of it,” he said, sighing deeply. “Nobody’s goin’ nowhere … at least not very far. There’s probably about four or five feet of snow on the ground, as we speak, and my guess is it’s comin’ down at about a foot an hour. No carriages are runnin’. My suggestion is that Miss Richards comes with us to Mrs. Taylor’s Boardinghouse for the night. I’m pretty sure she can find an extra room.”

“How will we get there?”

“Honey,” he said, squeezing my hand, “it’s just a few blocks from here, and we can walk it. There’s no way you’d make it all the way back uptown.”

Thank God I’d found a makeup bag in my valise. A girl can’t make it without her makeup.

“What if they don’t have any rooms?” I asked.

“Worse comes to worse, you can have mine. I’ll sleep downstairs on the parlor couch. Or even on the floor, if I have to,” James said.

With little choice in the matter, I agreed. We bundled ourselves up as well as we could and headed out into the storm. The wind howled like a hungry wolf, lashing us about, swirling snow into our faces. The drifts were deep, and Etta and I, on account of our long skirts, had difficulty walking. James covered my head with one arm, trying to shield me from the blustery weather, but it was futile. Every step felt like ten. My feet were blocks of ice. In near-whiteout conditions, James and Harry shouted back and forth above the howling, searching for landmarks to guide us in the right direction. Finally they spotted the black and white sign of Mrs. Taylor’s Boardinghouse.

“Hallelujah,” James yelled.

The door was locked. He rang the bell, rang it again.

At last the portly Mrs. Taylor appeared in her bedclothes. “Good God Almighty,” she exclaimed. She was a kind-looking, older woman, with frizzy red hair. “Come in, come in. By God, you’ll all catch your death of cold. No telling
how
long this storm will keep up. I’ve been so nervous, I had a little more than my usual glass of sherry.” She hiccupped loudly. “Oh, my. Pardon me, pardon me.”

“Mrs. Taylor,” James said, “this is a good friend of mine, Miss Ariel. She got stuck with us over at Connelly’s. Since there are no carriages runnin’ tonight, she can’t rightly make it back uptown. I was wonderin’, do you have an extra room for the lady?”

Mrs. Taylor gave me a good look, squinting, then pulling her glasses from the pocket of her robe and putting them on. “You look familiar to me, young lady. Where have I seen you before?”

Unless she had fast-forwarded a hundred years, I could promise she’d never seen me. I said, “I have one of those familiar faces, I guess. I live here in New York, so maybe we bumped into each other somewhere.”

“Yes, yes. Maybe so. Well, we’re full tonight on account of the storm, but you’re in luck, miss. I don’t normally rent it out, but there’s a tiny room on that third floor, in the attic. It was my late-husband’s study, God rest his soul. When he started snoring so bad I couldn’t take it anymore, that’s where I sent him to sleep. There’s a bed up there. It’s small, but it’s clean.”

“I’m sure that will do just fine, ma’am,” I said.

“Before you all go upstairs, I suggest I take your wet coats, and you can sit yourselves down by the fire to warm up. I’ve got some brandy that you’re most welcome to.” She carried over a cut-crystal decanter and four glasses on a tray. She wobbled a bit, threatening to topple everything, and James lunged forward to steady her.

Once we were all situated in the parlor, warmed by the fire and by the brandy in our glasses, Mrs. Taylor made to leave.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Harry said. “We sure appreciate it.”

“Goodnight to you, then. I’ll see you all in the morning. I’ve got to get my beauty rest—that is, if I can even sleep. What a storm, what a terrible storm.” She shook her head, muttering to herself as she climbed the stairs.

“She’s three sheets to the wind, don’t you think?” Etta said.

Harry chuckled and pulled his chair closer to the hearth. “I reckon she is, Etta.”

Settling next to me on the couch, James poured some more brandy. He held my small hands between his large ones, rubbing them gently. “I’ll take that little room in the attic, and you can take mine. What do you say? It might be more comfortable, and there’s a big tub in case you want to take a hot bath. Besides, Harry and Etta’s room is right next door if you need anything.”

“That’s very kind of you, James,” I said, as the brandy’s warmth burned a lovely path down my throat.

“I think I’m going to bed,” Etta said, yawning. “You coming, Harry?”

Her husband rose slowly. “Now you kids be good,” he said, with a sly smile.

“Good night, Harry … Etta,” I said.

James and I were alone now, and he pulled me close. He brushed a wisp of hair from my eyes. My heart raced, and electricity shot through me from head to toe.

“What is it about you, lady? Why do I feel like I know you, when we only just met?” he asked.

“I feel the same way,” I answered, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reasons why.

He pulled me close again, as I stared up into his face. He stroked my cheek and brought my mouth closer to his till our lips almost touched. I trembled, closing my eyes, waiting for his kiss. Instead, he exhaled, then kissed me on the forehead the way one might kiss a child.

“Ariel, I guess we’d better say goodnight before we do somethin’ we might be sorry for. I don’t trust myself to stop once we get started.”

I looked at him, puzzled. Not this again.

“I’m a ramblin’ man, honey. I’m not gonna lead you on. I’ll be leavin’ in about three weeks’ time—or maybe two, maybe four—but soon I’ll be goin’, and that’s a fact. I still want to spend time with you, but I need you to know that whatever happens ’tween us, it could only be for now.”

“I understand. I do,” I said. But I couldn’t stop holding him.

“Girl, we could only be star-crossed lovers at best.”

Well, at least this time my love interest wasn’t
married
. I’d almost made that mistake with Lindbergh. No, this time it might be okay to continue and see where this led. It had been months since that last journey—
and
since my last date. I felt a strong need for closeness.

And not just with anyone. With
him.

“Come on, I’ll show you to your room,” James said.

He hadn’t even kissed me.

Twenty minutes later, I was running a hot bath. I removed my petticoat, my corset—which gave me some trouble since I’d never worn one before—and the camisole. I laid my wet skirt across a chair to dry. What a pain in the ass having to dress this way. Sure, it looked nice, but I’d have given anything for jeans and a t-shirt.

I eased into the steaming water, grateful for its warmth. My body was bone-tired, but my mind was alive. Alive with him. I replayed every word, every look, every touch.

Afterwards, I lay down on the old cast-iron bed. Each time I closed my eyes, sleep fluttered away like a butterfly. My thoughts were going in circles. Man, where the hell was a Lunesta when you really needed one?

I knew what I had to do.

I had to see him, talk to him. Tonight.

I put back on my corset, petticoat, and camisole, but left the skirt since it was still damp. Excitement welled within me. Holding the candle from my nightstand, I tiptoed into the dark hall and up the steep narrow steps toward the attic. I prayed that the ancient wood would not creak and wake anyone up.

“James?” Knocking at his door, I whispered again, “James? It’s me. I need to talk to you, please.” What would I say? I did not know, and it didn’t matter. I was taking a chance that whatever I was feeling, he might be feeling too.

Half asleep, he answered the door. He was naked from the waist up, with only a sheet wrapped around his torso, so sexy that it took me breath away.

“What’s the matter?” he said, yawning.

“I … I couldn’t sleep. I needed to talk to you,” I whispered.

He pulled up a chair from the nearby desk, and patted it as he sat back on the edge of the bed. He looked at me, blinking, as though uncertain if he was awake or dreaming. He rubbed his eyes, and said, “My God, you’re almost naked.”

Naked? In a petticoat and camisole? There were twenty-year-olds in my timeframe who would consider this way too covered up.

“So what’s up, pretty lady? What’s your trouble?”

“If you want me to be frank,” I said, clearing my throat, “my trouble is
you
. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Now, Ariel, I really like you, and God knows I
could
get crazy about you if I allowed myself to. But didn’t you hear a word I said downstairs? I’m gonna be gone in a few weeks. Have no idea
if
or
when
I’ll ever be back. You know what I’m sayin’? And you’re gonna be here, right where you belong. It’s just not gonna do neither one of us no good, is it, doin’ a fool thing like fallin’ in love?”