Weathered Too Young (19 page)

As Lark removed the coat
and
hung it on a hook beside the bedroom door
,
she realized how truly chilled the room was.
She studied the small pile of wood near the hearth a moment—the wood Slater had brought in the night before when he’d built a fire for her.
Oh, it was tempting—to build a fire, open the window just a few inches, and sleep warm.
Still, she must not be greedy—or weak.
She would be warm enough once she was in bed.

Lark startled as a soft knock echoed from her door.

“Yes?” she called.

“It’s me,” Slater said from the other side.
“I’m comin’ in.”

She
smiled, somehow
delighted by the fact that he did not ask her permission to enter—simply informed her he would.

The door opened
,
and Slater Evans stepped into Lark’s
bedroom.
She
hoped her eyes hadn’t widened too noticeably as she took in his state of undress.
He wore only a rather ragged pair of trouser underwear.

“I almost forgot to start you a little fire in here,” he mumbled as he crossed the room in his bare feet and hunkered down before the hearth.

“Oh…I-I’m fine
. R
eally I am,” Lark stammered, watching the muscles in his arms and back ripple as he worked.
“We shouldn’t waste the firewood.”

“It ain’t a waste,” he mumbled.
“We need to keep you warm.”

Lark felt her brows pucker in a slight frown as she noticed the scar on his back just below his left shoulder.
It was a strange
-
looking scar—almost star-shaped—as if a wound had been roughly stitched together once.

“It’ll be all right, you know,” he said, glancing over one broad shoulder to her
,
nodding.

“What will?” she asked.
In truth, the fact that Slater Evans had appeared in her room so entirely unclothed had entirely rattled her thoughts.

He frowned a little.
“Katie and the children,” he explained.
“It’ll be all right.
You won’t have to do much more than ya do now…except cook bigger meals, I guess.
I’m sure Katie will see to their mendin’ and warshin’ and such.”
He looked back to his task.
“I just didn’t want ya worryin’ about it.”

“I’ll be glad to help,” Lark told
him.

She
watched as he leaned forward
and
blew on the kindling.
The flame took
,
and Slater added two small
logs.
He
stood, dusting his hands together and turning toward her.

Instantly, visions of her rather sensual dreams of Slater began to repeat in her mind.
She even felt goose bumps rippling over her arms when she realized that, in her dreams, he’d been dressed exactly as he stood before her now—or rather, undressed exactly as he stood.

“You’ll like Katie,” he told her.
“She’s a fine woman.”

“I’m sure she is,” she
managed, though
a fiery, painful jealousy broke over her at Slater’s praises of Katie.

His eyes narrowed a moment, and she feared he might somehow sense her
unhappiness.
Slater
rubbed his chin with one
hand and seemed
to study her a moment.

“It ain’t too often that I get me a shave in town,” he said.
“But I sure like the way that barber pampers up my face.
He puts a warm towel on me after he’s finished shavin’ me.
It sure feels good.
Don’t you think?”

“I’m sure it does,” Lark
answered, her
heart suddenly hammering so viciously she wondered if it had somehow leapt into her throat.
Oh, he was attractive!
Everything about him was attractive
.
She studied his dark hair a moment
,
mussed as if someone had just tousled it.
His eyes smoldered in the fire
-
and lamplight
,
the shadows cast by the flames in the hearth dancing across the broad contours of his chest.
His trouser underwear sat low on his hips.
Lark had the sudden hope that the tattered drawstring was robust enough to keep the article of clothing in place.

“M-my mother used to warm a towel by the fire…wrap it around my feet when she tucked me into bed to warm me,” she
babbled, suddenly
quite overwhelmed with nervous excitement.
“So…so I almost imagine what a warm towel would feel like after a shave.”

Slater grinned.
“The towel did feel good,” he said
,
taking a step toward her.
“But I was meanin’ my face
. D
on’t ya think my face feels good after that barber shave?”

He reached out, taking her hand and placing her palm to one cheek.
The instant memory of the moments before Slater had remembered the letter from Katie—of touching him—of his touching her
,
kissing her—caused Lark’s body experience a blissful quiver.

“Y-yes,” she stammered in a whisper.
“It’s very smooth.”

“Of course, it ain’t as soft as yours,” he said, bending to caress her cheek with his own as he’d done earlier.
“But it’s nice all the same.”

Lark’s senses were reporting like fireworks!
She felt one of Slater’s hands come to rest on her waist—felt breathless and near faint.

“I-I…I think I forgot t-to…to thank you for…for the coats,” she stammered.

“Then thank me,” he mumbled against he corner of her mouth.

“Thank you for…”

Her words were lost—lost along with her breath as she felt him press a light yet lingering kiss to her lips.

“What was that?” he breathed.
His breath tickled her mouth.

“Thank you for the…for the coats,” she managed.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered.
He wasn’t kissing her
,
yet his lips lingered in lightly brushing hers.
She could feel him smiling.
He knew she was unsettled
;
she knew Slater Evans knew that she was profoundly unsettled!

“Thank you…for that fine supper,” he breathed against her lips.

“Y-you’re welcome,” Lark managed.

He straightened then
,
and Lark found she could not meet his gaze at first.
When at last she did look up at him, it was to see him frowning—studying the bruises on her cheek.

“It’s lookin’ better,” he said, lightly caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.
Still frowning, he gently pressed his index finger to her lower lip.
“We just gotta get that lip healed up,” he added.
His face
softened, a
slight grin curving one corner of his mouth.
“Before my next barber shave anyway.”

Lark gasped
slightly
,
entirely elated by his flirting.

“Good night, baby,” he said, winking at her.

“Good night,” she managed.

Grinning, Slater turned to leave her room.

Lark gasped once more as one of the two buttons securing the trapdoor flap to Slater’s underwear suddenly popped off.
She averted her gaze only just in time
to keep her innocence intact.

“Oops,” he said, turning around and bending over to pick up the rogue button.

He offered the button to her
,
and—keeping her gaze on his face—Lark offered him an upturned palm in
return.
“There
ya go,” Slater said, dropping the button into her hand.
He made no effort to protect his modesty—simply smiled at her, turned once more
,
and left the room.

Lark gazed at the button in her hand.
Had he really kissed her?
Really?
Perhaps she was only dreaming again.
She reached up, pinching her own arm—and it hurt.
No
,
she had not been dreaming.

Slater chuckled as he closed Lark’s bedroom door behind him.
She’d near fainted when he’d lost his trapdoor button
,
he was sure of it.
She’d near fainted when he’d kissed her too.
He closed his eyes a moment, willing himself to move forward and up the stairs—instead of turning around and returning to Lark’s bedroom for one more flirtatious kiss.

As he climbed the stairs
,
he yawned
,
hoping his visit to her room had reassured her that her place with him and Tom was secure.
It had frightened Lark
,
when he and Tom had revealed that Katie and the children would be coming to stay
with
them.
He’d
seen
the fear take control of her—visibly seen the fear in her.
No doubt she was afraid she’d have to find another place to wait out the winter
. B
ut she wouldn’t—and he’d wanted to make certain she understood it.

Slater sat down on the side of his bed
,
stretched his long arms
,
and yawned again.
He thought of the smile that had crossed her face after he’d started the fire in her room.
It wasn’t too long after Lark had come to them that he’d realized she had a fear of being cold.
He wouldn’t have her fearing the cold any longer.
He’d make sure she was kept warm.
He chuckled as he crawled into his bed.
Yep.
He’d make sure Lark was kept warm through the winter—one way or the other.

Slater tucked his hands beneath his head and stared at the ceiling.
The moon was full and lit the room well.
He glanced at his gun belt slung over the back of the nearby chair.
As always, the sight of his weapon succeeded in drawing his mind away from frivolous fancies—back to a more sensible point of view.

In that instant, the joy Slater had gleaned from teasing Lark vanished.
He scowled, having suddenly remembered his age—the weathered state of his mind and body.
Who the hell did he think he was?
Did he really think a fresh young sparrow would find any interest in a battered old buzzard?
And even if she did—should she?
He thought of the day Lark had arrived—arrived with Hadley Jacobson.
Hadley was a good man—a young man.
Hadley was the sort of man Lark deserved—not beat
-
up old Slater Evans.

Growling, Slater closed his
eyes, determined
to get some sleep.
Still, as the memory of Lark’s sweet breath on his cheek
,
of the soft pleasure of her tender lips
,
gripped his mind
,
he knew sleep was not about to come easy.

He thought of John then—forced himself to think of his childhood friend—his now
-
dead childhood friend.
It was an unpleasant, heartbreaking thought—John gone and Katie a widow
,
their children now without a father.
Yep, a sad and unhappy thought indeed.
But Slater always did have an easier time going to sleep while entertaining gloomy thoughts
as opposed to glad thoughts.
So he tried to think of Katie’s misery—tried to envision ways to help her and her children—instead of
envisioning Lark’s youthful sparkle
,
her pretty eyes and silken hair
,
her sparrow’s voice
,
her soft, pastry-sweet lips.

Cussing under his breath, Slater rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.
“Go to sleep
,
you ol’ buzzard,” he grumbled.
“And from now on…leave that sparrow alone.”

Lark couldn’t help but smile as she watched Mrs. Gunderson wrap the pretty pink calico in brown paper.
She hadn’t had a new dress, skirt
,
or shirtwaist in so long!
Already her fingers were tingling
,
desperate to begin sewing.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Slater and Tom still standing on the boardwalk outside the
g
eneral
s
tore.
The stage still hadn’t arrived
,
and she knew they were both beginning to worry.