Jodi Thomas (26 page)

Then, slowly, she pulled the material wide, revealing her thin camisole clinging against her damp skin.

Carter raised his fingers and touched the material. Desire replaced the question in his stare. He no longer had to ask what she was doing. He knew.

Bailee watched passion spark in his eyes as she pulled free the ribbon of her undergarment. “When I’m more wife than stranger,” she whispered the words she’d said to him days before when he’d asked if he could see her body.

The material slipped away from her breasts.

For a long moment she closed her eyes and just breathed, thinking of what she was doing. With this one act she’d made a commitment to a man she’d known only days.

She’d expected him to touch her, but when she opened her eyes, he was merely staring. She couldn’t help but wonder if she were the first woman he’d ever seen. Suddenly she felt very old and wise ... and cold.

Awkwardly she lifted his hand and placed it over one of her breasts. “It’s all right, I think, if you touch me. We’re alone. You are my husband.”

She could feel the roughness of his palms, the warmth of his fingers, and a hesitance that was so tender it split her heart in two.

“It’s all right,” she whispered, but he didn’t move. She couldn’t help but laugh. She was talking to him as if he had few brains.

He pulled his hand away. “I don’t think we have time to go upstairs,” he mumbled nervously.

Had she rattled his brain off the hinges? He was making no sense at all. They didn’t have an upstairs anywhere on the place.

She pulled the sides of her camisole together and tied the ribbon. “I’m sorry,” she said, unsure of what she was sorry about. Maybe she should be sorry for being so bold, but she didn’t feel as if she’d done anything wrong. In fact, she enjoyed the fact that he’d seen her; it was somehow wild and crazy and made her feel warm deep down inside.

When she finished tying her camisole, she placed her hands on her knees and looked up at him, wishing he’d talk to her. “No, I’m not sorry,” she corrected. “I know we have little time, for there are people waiting, but I wanted you to know how I feel about being with you.”

Any words she’d been about to say vanished from her mind as he reached up and pulled free the bow she’d just tied in place.

The thin material fell dangerously low across her breasts, barely covering the tip of each.

She didn’t move.

He tugged at the ribbons, pulling the material lower until it slipped beneath her mounds, once more leaving her bare.

The fire in his stare made her breath come rapidly as though she’d been running for miles.

He watched every rise and fall.

She waited once more for him to touch her, but he only stared. He watched her so closely she could almost feel him against her. He was making love to her with only a look.

Finally, without a word, she tied the ribbon once more. He didn’t stop her as she buttoned her blouse slowly, all the way to the collar.

When she’d finished, he placed his hands around her waist, lifted her from the wagon gate, and lowered her to the ground an inch in front of him.

“Tonight,” he whispered as they stood almost touching, “our month is over?”

Bailee smiled, knowing what he asked. “Tonight, our month is over.”

His lips lowered over hers in a tender kiss. When she opened her mouth, he drank deep of the taste of her. As he kissed her, his hands moved over her, following the lines of her body through her clothes.

He broke the kiss so suddenly she leaned against him for support. “We have to go.” His words were tight with control.

Bailee nodded and forced herself to step away. They’d have tonight. They’d have a lifetime. Now it was time to see what Deputy Wheeler wanted. Good news or bad, the deputy had waited long enough.

They moved through the trees and along the stream without saying a word. She thought about mentioning that he’d left his lunch behind, but decided maybe he’d been hungry for her and not a meal when he’d remained in the orchard.

He didn’t take her hand as they moved across the open land between the orchard and the house, but she was aware of him walking closer to her. She matched her steps to his, liking the way her skirt brushed slightly against his leg.

Tonight there would be nothing between them. The thought excited her and frightened her a little. But this was her man. Her husband. And it was time to start loving him.

As they neared the house, several of the men who’d helped him that morning came out. One stepped ahead of the rest. “Mister, sir,” he asked politely, “we would like to show our wives and children the trees. If you do not mind?”

“Of course. The best place to relax after lunch is among the trees. Take as long as you like,” Carter answered. “Bring the wagon back when you return.”

“And extra peaches for pies tonight,” Bailee added, smiling at how easily he talked with these people once he’d decided to trust them. She guessed they did not want to be around the deputy and wondered if they’d had trouble with the law in other towns.

The man smiled, signed a thank-you, and signaled the others to follow.

While the band headed for the trees, Bailee and Carter circled the house. Three broken-down cow ponies were tied out front with their owners standing in the shade of the porch. Samuel blocked the door of the house, his gun still cradled on his arm. With his eyesight he’d be lucky to hit the barn if he fired, but the three strangers weren’t coming close enough to test that theory. They’d tried demanding the old man put the gun down, but Samuel seemed more deaf than usual.

Tension vibrated in the air. If Sheriff Riley had made the visit, he would have been talking with everyone, probably sitting by now in a chair with a cool drink of well water in his hand. But these three were different from the sheriff. They wore badges on their vests and guns on their hips, but something about them was twisted.

Bailee had watched them come in and out of the sheriff’s office the week she’d been in jail. She, Sarah, and Lacy had sworn daily that if any one of the three won the lottery to become a husband, the other two women would help their friend become a widow as fast as possible.

August Wheeler, Riley’s deputy, straightened when he saw her and Carter coming, but his left shoulder still drooped as if he wanted that hand closer to his gun at all times.

Riley had told Bailee that August was a deputy for three years simply because no one else would apply. He was good at sweeping up and bringing drunks in for the night, Riley had said, but he would never make a sheriff. He was missing any sense of right and wrong.

Riley had spent a half hour one night while Bailee was behind bars telling her about how August wasn’t a bad man, he just couldn’t help that a part was missing. Like some folks don’t have a sense of right and left, or north and south. For August, there was no degree of a crime. He’d as soon kill a man for spitting on the walk as committing murder. The sheriff saw him more as a sad joke, but Bailee saw him as dangerous.

August now looked at Bailee with the same muddy green eyes, as if he didn’t really see her at all. If eyes were windows to the soul, August Wheeler’s soul was in dead winter.

“Carter McKoy!” he yelled as if he wasn’t sure who Carter was and hadn’t known him for years.

“Yes.” Carter didn’t get too close to the three men.

Bailee hung back near the porch. If August was questionable, the other two looked downright mean. They were drifters who fancied themselves gamblers. Men too lazy to work, who’d lucked into being the deputy’s henchmen because the sheriff was out of town. Bailee guessed the job must have come with free liquor, for she could smell it on both of them from several feet away.

August introduced them with a wave of his hand as Ludlow and Ray. He didn’t bother with last names, and Bailee couldn’t help but wonder if the men even had them. Ludlow was tall and dark with a cream scar that dripped from his hairline almost to his eye. Ray didn’t have his friend’s height, but made up for it in width.

“I’d like to talk to you in private. Official business.” August patted his gun as if he expected Carter to argue with the simple request.

Carter glanced at Samuel waiting near the front door. Papa Farrow sat a few feet away. Carter nodded at both men but offered no invitation for the deputies to step inside. Bailee was glad.

Carter pointed toward the barn, then didn’t wait for an answer before walking toward it.

Bailee fell into step behind him. She hadn’t gone three feet when one of the men with August blocked her path. She looked up, trying not to stare at Ludlow’s scar.

Ludlow wasn’t even looking in her direction. It was as if he stepped in her path without noticing her at all.

She couldn’t help but think that whatever had hit his head must have also damaged his brain.

August hardly glanced at her as he passed. “This talk is between me and your man. Stay out of it, Miss Bailee.” He mumbled his order, then spat a long stream of tobacco. The way he said her name seemed to be a reminder that he’d known her when she was a prisoner and still didn’t consider her respectable.

Bailee started to argue, but Ludlow took a step toward her as if he planned to make sure she followed orders. His stare was dull, and she knew logic would be wasted on the tall man.

Bailee heard Samuel’s heavy boots hit the dirt as he jumped off the porch behind her. She moved backward, seeking the safety of the carpenter’s side. If she couldn’t go with Carter, Samuel would help to make her feel less alone.

The scarred man hesitated a moment, then turned to follow August, dismissing her as though she’d been no more than a garden slug he’d noticed crossing his path.

Out of the comer of her eye Bailee saw Rom move in the shadows between the buildings toward the barn. She nodded slightly, giving her blessing to his quest.

 

Carter didn’t like following the men to have a private talk with them, but he decided whatever they had to say might not need saying in front of Piper and the women. He’d been able to sign a few simple words to the old Gypsy about staying with the women and protecting them. He wasn’t sure the old man understood the signs, but Farrow nodded, for he knew what Carter wanted done. The few of his sons who hadn’t gone to the orchard moved closer to the house, as if the old man had communicated with them.

The Gypsies might be little help if facing down armed men, but they would at least give Bailee time to think. Carter glanced back toward the house, looking for her. He wanted to tell her all would be fine, but the arrival of Wheeler indicated there might be trouble. In truth, he wanted everyone to go away and leave him alone with his wife.

He couldn’t help but watch her a second longer, wondering how he’d ever thought for one moment that she wasn’t beautiful. When she’d unbuttoned her blouse, she’d taken his breath away with her beauty.

Carter forced the thought to a comer of his mind. He had to concentrate on the here and now, at least until Piper and Bailee were out of danger. Whatever Wheeler had to say couldn’t be so bad he couldn’t handle it with Bailee at his side.

The barn was dark when he entered. All the horses were outside in the corral, but he could hear August or one of his men moving around in one of the stalls. Carter had been the last to step inside, dreading what August Wheeler had to tell him, but now he wanted to get the talk over with. Whatever the news, not knowing seemed worse.

As Carter closed the side door and turned to face the three men, a fist slammed against his jaw with such sudden force it almost knocked him off his feet. Pain, along with questions, shot into his brain.

Carter balanced and swung around prepared to fight. He was no longer a newcomer to the game; he’d had a lesson a few nights before. Though his muscles were sore, he’d hold his own in a fair fight this time.

He took a swing at Ray and connected just as a shovel rang against the back of his head. Carter fought to stay standing as another blow struck his back. He crumbled to one knee. A double-fisted swing connected at his jaw and toppled him backward. There was to be no fair fight.

He made himself stand as they circled him, each taking a turn before he could recover from the last blow. Vaguely it registered that they weren’t trying to kill him, only inflict pain. They were skilled at the task. When he hit the floor for the second time, the barn filled with starlight and standing became an impossibility.

“Tie him up,” August ordered. “He’s no longer in any shape to cause us trouble.” August kicked Carter’s ribs with his boot. “Just getting you in a mind to talk. Zeb did half the job for us the other night in Childress. We just needed to make a believer out of you today.”

Carter tried to clear his mind as a rope cut into his wrists.

“Stand him up. I got a few questions for him before I take him in.” August slapped the shovel against Carter’s side while the other two lifted him off the floor.

Carter’s head cleared enough to focus, but the men were making no sense. Why would they be tying him up and attacking him? He didn’t have long to wait for the answer.

August fished in his pocket and pulled out two twenty-dollar gold pieces. “You’ve been passing these around town lately. Mosely said you used them to pay off your wife’s debt at the stable, and you bought train tickets with gold yesterday. In a country where most folks are dirt poor and you, being one to always trade at the mercantile, having coins does seem strange.”

Carter saw no reason to answer. Where he got his money was no business of August or anyone else.

“I noticed you used a few to buy your wife that night the sheriff had that fool lottery.” August chuckled. “I didn’t put it all together then. Not until I saw Zeb step back from the dead and swearing to high heaven that he’d been robbed.”

August circled Carter, proud as a lawyer making a final summation on a case he knew he’d won. “He had a hundred twenty-dollar gold pieces with him the day the women tried to kill him. They claim they didn’t take it. If they had, they’d have paid their own fine and never married up with the likes of you.”