Never Marry a Cowboy (10 page)

He smiled warmly even though his mind screamed that he was carelessly adding fuel to the fire of misbegotten favors. “Every bride should have a wedding journey. I've decided to take you to Galveston.”

Joy flashed into her eyes, then diminished. “But you have responsibilities here.”

“I have not taken a holiday in three years. The town can live without my presence for a few weeks.”

“I'm not sure this is wise,” David said in a low voice.

“Since you arrived, nothing we have done has been wise, but we have set our course and we must follow it,” Kit said.

“How long would we stay?” Ashton asked.

“As long as you wish.”

“Ashton—” David began.

She met her brother's gaze. “I want to see the ocean.” She turned her attention back to Kit. “But are you sure? You've already done so much.”

“So I shall do a little more. What harm can come of it?”

“O
h, Kit, it's beautiful.”

His arms crossed over his chest, Kit leaned against the wall near the open door that led onto the balcony where his wife stood in the distant corner, her hands wrapped around the railing as she stared out to sea. He wondered how many women had done the same, waiting for husbands to return from their ocean mistress.

He and Ashton had traveled by stagecoach to Galveston, a journey of several days. As each night approached, they had stayed in a different inn along the route. Ashton had not slept well, and he was determined that she would do so while they were here. Sharing accommodations with people seemed to make her uncomfortable.

Upon their arrival in Galveston this afternoon, he'd secured her a room at a hotel. While she'd napped, he'd gone in search of something more pleasing. Fortunately, he'd managed to locate and secure this small cottage on an isolated part of the island. Sand dunes hid it from sight on one side while the bay circled it on the other.

“It looks like the ocean goes on forever,” Ashton said.

“In a way it does, although from time to time, it runs into land masses: islands, England, Europe, Africa.”

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes filled with delight. “I know the layout of the world.” She looked back at the water. “I hadn't expected the ocean to roar so loudly, and the keening of the wind makes it seem as though it's in mourning.”

“No doubt it weeps for all the sailors lost at sea.”

She spun around. “Do you really think so?”

He shrugged. “In truth, I doubt the wind cares that in its anger it has sent many a man to his death.”

“Were you frightened when you traveled here on the ship?”

“Only the day we encountered the sea monster.”

She laughed. “There are no sea monsters.” She lowered her lashes and peered at him. “Are there?”

Smiling, he crossed the expanse separating them. “No, none that I saw. What I did enjoy was watching the dolphins.” He pointed toward the bay. “That fellow followed me all the way from England.”

She turned back around, and he heard her gasp as a dolphin arched gracefully out of the water before diving below the surface. Kit studied the nape of her neck, incredibly tempted to place a kiss there.

“He's beautiful. How do you know it's the same one?” she asked.

“I don't.”

She twisted around, her mouth close enough to his
that he could close the gap in less than a heartbeat. The joy in her eyes was incredible to behold. His body was reacting to her nearness with a ferocity that made him doubt his wisdom in giving his bride a wedding trip.

“Why are you making fun of me?” she asked.

Because if he didn't, he might take her in his arms and kiss her until they both lost their senses. There was something about the salt air, the freshness, the thundering of an ocean that renewed life. He stepped back until he could no longer smell her fragrance. “I'm not making fun of you, sweetling, but the rake within me cannot resist an opportunity to tease.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How long did you say we'd stay here?”

“As long as you wish.”

“What about the people of Fortune and your duty to them?”

He grinned. “You will grow tired of me long before they realize I've gone.”

She shook her finger at him. “Don't be so sure, Christian Montgomery. I might grow used to your teasing, and then what?”

And then what, indeed
? He dared not contemplate that inevitability or the fact that he might grow more accustomed to her presence. He was finding it difficult enough to remember a time when she wasn't beside him offering smiles and pleasant conversation. As an added bonus, she neither spit tobacco nor cursed.

She returned her gaze to the sea. “I can't believe you found this cottage.”

“We had a bit of good fortune. I've hired a cook to come each day and prepare our meals, but she won't be here until tomorrow morning, so I'm afraid tonight you must suffer through my poor attempt at a meal.”

She glanced at him. “I'd offer to cook if I knew how.”

“You don't cook?”

She shook her head. “I've always had everything done for me.”

“Then I suppose it's a good thing that I've hired the cook's daughter to come and clean the house.”

He saw disappointment in her eyes. “It sounds like we'll have a house full of people. Who else have you hired?”

“Just those two women, and they'll only stay until we finish dinner. Then they'll return to their homes.”

“And we'll be here alone?”

“Yes.” Although he was beginning to fear that aspect of this wedding trip was not the wisest part of his little plan.

“You've thought of everything, haven't you?” she asked.

“I enjoy managing details and leaving nothing to chance.” He tipped his head toward the sky. “The sun will set soon. Let me prepare our dinner, and we'll eat it here on the balcony so you may continue to enjoy the ocean.”

 

Ashton sat at the cloth-covered table with the ugliest lantern she'd ever seen decorating its center. With the breeze blowing, she knew candles were not an op
tion. She also knew in her head that Kit had not intended the dinner to be romantic, but her heart had hoped. A foolish desire that blossomed daily within her breast.

She moved the food around on her plate and glanced at Kit, who had already eaten all of his. “Now, what did you call this?” she asked.

“A cowboy's fare. Beans, sourdough biscuits, and whatever else happened to be handy.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “It's the ‘whatever else' that worries me.”

He leaned over and touched the fish on her plate with his fork. “That's flounder. One of my favorites. If you eat it very carefully, the meat comes off the bone, leaving the skeletal structure intact so you end up with no bones in your mouth. I coated it with butter and lemon. It's delicious, I assure you.”

She grimaced. “But you left its head on. I can't eat something that's staring at me.”

“It's dead. It can't see you.”

“But I can
see
it.” She placed her napkin over the plate and tucked it underneath to hold it in place against the wind.

Kit sighed heavily. “Ashton, you don't eat enough to keep a bird alive.”

“I'm sorry. I know you went to a great deal of trouble to prepare the creature, but I just can't eat him.”

He held up a finger. “Don't touch your plate. I'll fetch dessert.”

Watching him disappear through the doors that led from their bedroom onto the balcony, she drew her
shawl more closely around her and wondered how long they truly could stay here. She'd fallen in love with the area the moment she'd set eyes on it.

Kit walked out carrying a large box. He had been sitting across from her before. He moved the chair until he was beside her and set the box on the floor. He withdrew another box and held it up.

Her eyes widened with delight. “Chocolate. You remembered.”

“I remember everything.” He removed the top from the box and took out a small confection. “There is a store in town that sells nothing but sweets.”

“Is that entire box full of chocolate?”

“Indeed it is.”

“I think I may fall in love with you.”

An emotion similar to worry flitted across his face. She laughed lightly as she realized her words had made him uncomfortable. “Don't worry. I know I'm not supposed to love you, but I can adore you for bringing me chocolates even though you know my physician cautioned me against having them.”

“No disrespect intended, but your physician was foolish. No harm can come from chocolate.”

“I suppose you have that on good authority?”

“Quite. My brother is the healthiest man I know, and he has a ravenous appetite for chocolate that he appeases at all hours of the day or night. Now, open your mouth.”

She did as he bade, not certain which she enjoyed more: the taste of the chocolate or his fingers. The decadent thought made her grow warm. His fingers didn't stay in her mouth long enough so she relished
the chocolate, closing her eyes and moaning as she did so.

“Delicious,” she murmured. “I'll take another.” She popped open her eyes and stared at her fork that now sported some white meat on it. “What's that?”

“Your flounder.”

She darted a glance to the table and discovered that while she'd been enjoying her chocolate, Kit had moved her plate so it was now in front of him.

“I have no difficulty staring at a fish that is staring at me,” he said calmly as he moved the fork closer to her mouth. “Eat. Two bites of fish and I'll give you another chocolate.”

She wanted to be angry at him, but for some unfathomable reason, she found him incredibly attractive sitting there holding her fork, tempting her with chocolate while trying to make her eat. “That's bribery.”

“Indeed it is.”

She narrowed her eyes. “One bite of fish in exchange for two pieces of chocolate.”

“One fish, one chocolate.”

She opened her mouth and unenthusiastically welcomed the fish. Much to her surprise, she enjoyed the flavor. She licked her lips. “It's not bad.”

“Liar. It's delicious.”

“Not as good as chocolate.”

Grinning, he popped a confection into her mouth. “No, not as good as chocolate.”

 

Sitting in the chair on the balcony, Ashton stared at the night. Kit had taken the dishes downstairs, leav
ing the chocolate behind. She ate another piece. It tasted different when his fingers hadn't touched it first. Not nearly as enticing.

If she were wise, she would suggest that they leave for Dallas tomorrow. Kit could easily steal her heart, if he hadn't already. Strange how she had always resented everyone waiting on her, but adored the way he saw to her every need.

She had to constantly remind herself that he was simply being kind and held no true affection for her. Still, the memories were sweet to hold, as sweet as the chocolate she chewed.

She heard footsteps and glanced over her shoulder. Carrying a blanket, Kit stepped onto the balcony, grabbed his chair, and dragged it across the wooden floor. He draped the blanket over her before sitting beside her.

“I can't believe there are so many ships out there,” she said quietly. “I find that one particularly intriguing.” She pointed toward a ship whose light shone brighter than any other.

“It's the only lightship on the Gulf Coast. Others have come before it, but according to the clerk at the hotel, the
Galveston Lightship Number 28
only just arrived in Galveston this past January.”

“What's its purpose?” she asked.

“The same as a lighthouse. It's moored at the entrance to Galveston Bay to warn ships that land is near and to guide them when necessary.”

Ashton drew the blanket more closely around her. “For some strange reason, I feel safer knowing it's there.”

“Are you cold?” he asked quietly.

She glanced at him. “A little, but I'm not ready to go inside yet.”

He reached for her. “Come here, then, and I'll warm you.”

Instinct warned her to stay put, but her heart and shivering body obeyed his request, and she moved to his lap. He tucked the blanket snugly around her before wrapping her within his embrace.

“How can you be so warm?” she asked.

“I grew up in a colder climate. After five years here, the heat bothers me less, but still I don't much care for the summers.”

“I love the summers. It's the only time I'm not cold. August is my favorite month.”

She felt his exaggerated shudder, knowing the action was intentional and not brought on by the slight chill in the night air.

“I dislike August the most,” he said, “And not only because it's the month that we first picked cotton.”

“I can't imagine you working in a cotton field,” she said.

“I find it difficult to imagine as well, but I stuck it out because Gray was so determined to see the stalks plucked clean. I loathed every moment of it.”

“You're all fortunate to have such good friends in one another.”

“I've always thought so.”

She nestled her head within the crook of his shoulder. “You've told me about your brother and father. What of your mother?”

“She was a saint.”

“Was?”

His arms tightened around her, and she glanced up to see him staring out to sea.

“She became ill the winter before Clarisse died. Whatever it was, the disease took her quickly and unexpectedly. I was holding her, reading to her, and when I glanced down, she was gone.”

Ashton pressed her palm to his cheek. “And here you are holding another dying woman.”

“Tragedy comes in threes, does it not?”

“How unfair for you.” She covered her mouth, trying to stifle her yawn.

“The hour is late, sweetling. I should put you to bed.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood. “I can walk, you know.”

“I might as well carry you, since you're already within my embrace.”

“You're going to spoil me.”

“In ways you can't even imagine,” he promised as he walked into the bedroom.

She glanced at the four-poster canopied bed and her mouth went dry as he released his hold and she slowly slid down his body. As casually as she could, she removed the blanket and draped it over the bed. “There's no changing screen.”

“You won't need one,” he assured her, and her heart sped up as she slowly turned to face him.

“I won't?”

“You'll have privacy here. I've taken the room across the hall.”

Disappointment slammed into her. “You didn't need to do that.”

He held out a hand as though to explain better. “We are the only two within a house on an isolated part of the island. Our sleeping habits will not be the fodder for local gossip as they would have been in Fortune.”