Wings of a Dove (24 page)

    Allie closed her eyes and tried to summon a vision of the Lady, the kind face that listened to her prayers and sent them winging on their way to God's ear. She needed the Lady's strength this night.

    "Don't think you've won."

    The low threat emanating from the corner of the room froze Allie's thoughts and turned her head slowly toward the sound. Barely discernible in the darkness, Sarah raised herself on her elbow and leaned toward her menacingly.

    "You're making a mistake if you think you've won." Sarah's low laugh grated on the silence of the room. "Delaney only bought you that ribbon because he feels sorry for you. The poor, plain little orphan girl who attached herself to him. That ribbon isn't going to make you any prettier, but you might as well enjoy it while you can."

    Sarah's low tone changed, became sensuous. "All the boys want me, Allie. Amory Bishop, Charlie Knots, Bobbie Clark. But I just taunt them and laugh. I wouldn't let any one of them touch me. Do you know why? Because I'm saving myself for Delaney. He's the only fellow I want. I'm a woman now, and it won't be hard to make him want me back, because I know all the ways. Once I get him, he'll never look at you again. And when he leaves, I'll go with him."

    Her voice becoming supremely confident, Sarah continued harshly, "So keep the ribbon, Allie. It's all you'll have to remind yourself of Delaney after he's gone."

    The soft rustle of bedcovers followed Sarah's whispered words, signaling that she had finished speaking. Soon her light snoring told Allie she was asleep.

    Allie stared unseeingly at the ceiling over her head. How could Sarah be so beautiful on the outside and so very ugly on the inside? Why didn't her meanness show? Allie had no doubt that what Sarah had said was true. All the boys did want her. But not Delaney. Delaney was too smart.

    "Oh, Lady," she prayed softly. "I need your help, and Delaney needs it, too. Because we're the same inside, and I know nobody sees it but you."

    Allie slid her hand under her pillow. She touched the smooth satin ribbon, clutched it tightly, then closed her eyes.

Chapter Eight

    Damn it all, he was exhausted!

    Resting his elbows on the desk in front of him, Delaney covered his face with his hands. A few minutes later he glanced up at the clock on the wall. Midnight. He uttered a low groan. He had been up since four in the morning, and he would be back to work at the farm again a few short hours from now.

    Taking a moment to rub his burning eyes, Delaney returned his attention to the copy in his hand and continued reading. A short grunt passed for a laugh as he read on. Max's editorial was really clever. The play on words he had used was just the right touch to sum up the ridiculous situation that had the town in an uproar.

    It was a case of a mountain out of a molehill, all right. It seemed old Whitaker Snipes, on his usual Saturday night drunk, had staggered out of the Silver Dollar saloon carrying a bottle of whiskey. He had taken offense at a remark Sid Dearling made and had responded with a remark in kind, casting aspersions on Sid's parentage, which Sid found equally offensive. Blows were exchanged, and Whitaker had gotten the worst of the battle when he decided to use the bottle of whiskey with grievous intent.  But Brownie, Sid's old dog, was not about to let him get away with it. Seeing the danger to his master, Brownie had clamped his iron jaws on Whitaker's posterior and shaken him until the bottle crashed to the ground.

    People said that Whitaker Snipes's bloodcurdling scream was still echoing in the hills around town.

    But that was not the end of the story. Alma Snipes, the old biddy who doubtless had driven her husband to drink in the first place, appeared in town the next day, claiming that Brownie posed a threat to the community and should be destroyed.

    From the resulting furor it was obvious that old Brownie had a lot more friends in town than Whitaker and Alma Snipes did. It had not gone over well when the sheriff went to Sid's house and arrested Brownie where he lay on the porch, innocently scratching at his fleas.

    The issue of whether old Brownie should be destroyed was so hotly debated around town that it had overshadowed the news of the worsening situation in the country with regard to the slavery question, the fact that the long-disputed canal on the Isthmus of Suez had finally been started, and every other issue of true importance reported by the
Cass County News
. Delaney supposed that was the reason Max had written the editorial. If Max wanted to make the town sit back and laugh at itself, this editorial would do the trick.

    Max's opening had set the tone for his commentary, and Delaney chuckled as he reread the first line: "To destroy, or not to destroy, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the stress and pain of outrageous incident…"

    But Max's opening was met, and perhaps surpassed by his closing: "After heated debate, the consensus is that old Brownie did the town a favor that he did not commit a crime. It is felt that the faithful, protective beast prevented a crime a criminal assault intended by Whitaker Snipes. He did this quickly and efficiently by nipping a potentially serious situation in the buttocks and by bringing a colorful (if a bit torn and badly scratched) end to the story.

    "Brownie, you are a hero! The kangaroo court of Cass County, a suitable legal body, considering the species against whom the charges were brought, finds in your favor. Not guilty!"

    Delaney gave another short laugh as he dropped the page in front of him. He was finally done for the night, and damned    glad of it. He glanced at the well-lit street outside, grateful for the full moon which would make the trip home easier.

    Drawing himself to his feet, Delaney took his hat off the peg and walked out onto the board sidewalk, pulling the door closed behind him. The click of the lock echoed on the night air and he turned toward the spot where his horse was tied to the hitching post. A moment later he was mounted and riding out of town.

    It was then that James entered his mind for the first time. A low snort escaping his lips, Delaney straightened his broad, stiff shoulders and flexed the muscles in his arms. He had never been this late in returning to the farm. James was probably all but certain he had absconded with the gelding and was on his way to the closest big city.

    A muscle twitched in Delaney's cheek. It wasn't as if he hadn't been tempted.

    He had been working three days a week at the
Cass County News
for a few months now, and in that short time he had gained some experience in almost every aspect of publishing the paper. Max Marshall had promised to let him begin writing short articles soon. It could not be soon enough for Delaney.

    In order to get all this practical experience, however, he had to spend a great many hours in town and away from the farm. Unwilling to go back on his word, he had not allowed himself to fall behind in his chores, but working sixteen hours a day had not been easy.

    Delaney raised his shoulders in a brief, unconscious shrug. He would have worked his fingers to the bone if necessary, just to show Mr. Case and James that they had been wrong about him.

    And then there was Mrs. Case. Delaney knew it was because of her that he had been allowed to take the position on the newspaper, and he didn't want to let her down. Hell, not her, of all people, or Allie. His two allies.

    Delaney frowned, his weary face drawing into deep lines. He hadn't had much time for Allie in the past few months, with his increased workload. Irritation crept over him. He knew Allie hadn't been neglected. Every time he had seen her lately, James was nearby.

    His aggravation increasing with that thought, Delaney dug his heels into the gelding's sides, spurring him to a faster pace. He     was annoyed with himself. He had wanted things to go that way, hadn't he? He had told Allie he wanted her to be friends with James so that when he decided to leave, he wouldn't have to worry about her. She seemed to have followed his suggestion to the letter, dammit.

    Delaney realized that he was not being consistent. The truth was, he missed Allie, and he was more than annoyed with himself because of it.

    Allie had been curious as the devil the first few weeks he had worked on the newspaper. She had waited for him to come home and had plied him with questions, and as much as he had protested her endless queries, he had enjoyed every minute of her interest. As the months passed and his working hours lengthened, he had begun coming home after she was in bed. He missed seeing her despite his fatigue.

    His dark brows drawing into a familiar frown, Delaney recalled the situation at the breakfast table that morning. Mrs. Case had been paler and weaker than usual, and Mr. Case had seemed deeply concerned. Sarah, unconcerned about anyone but herself, was reciting an inconsequential tale about one of her many suitors. The last to be seated, Allie had been flushed and perspiring from her attempt to assume the majority of Mrs. Case's duties in the kitchen. The effort had not escaped him.

    Nor had it escaped James. When everyone else had left the table, James walked over to Allie and, placing his hand on her shoulder, whispered something in her ear. Allie's smile flashed. In the face of the rush of puzzling feelings that assaulted him, Delaney had turned on his heel and walked outside.

    His irritation had been tempered only slightly when Allie ran out into the yard prior to his departure for town and handed him a large piece of the spice cake she had baked for supper, wrapped in a cloth for his journey.

    Delaney paused abruptly in his thoughts. He was not being honest with himself. The fact was, he resented the new intimacy that appeared to be developing between James and Allie. He more than resented it, and he could not afford to allow such intense feelings. It was strange. He had expected the bond between Allie and him to be a problem, but he had not expected
he
would be the one who would have difficulty severing it.

    Engrossed in his warring feelings, Delaney frowned as the     final turn in the road brought the darkened farmhouse into view. A short time later, he had unsaddled the gelding, put him in the barn, and gone into the house. Overwhelmingly tired, he walked down the hallway toward his small room in the rear.

    Lost in thought, Delaney pushed open the door and lit the table lamp. The flame flickered and grew brighter, and Delaney pushed the door shut behind him. He headed for the bed, but came to an abrupt halt as he stared into the flickering shadows. What the

    ''Surprised, Delaney?" Sarah's low purr hung on the silence as she propped herself up on her elbow in his bed. Her seductive eyes were made brighter by the flickering lamplight reflected in her dark pupils.

    Delaney jerked his head toward the door, and Sarah gave a low, husky laugh.

    "Don't worry. Nobody knows I'm here. I even waited until the 'sweet innocent' was sleeping before I left. You're late. I've been waiting a long time, but I know it'll be worth it."

    The silence between them grew strained as Delaney surveyed Sarah incredulously.

    "It never ceases to amaze me that you're Margaret Case's daughter," he said at last.

    Sarah's smile flickered. "I don't suppose you meant that as a compliment." Her eyes moved intently over his face for a few seconds longer. "Is it wrong to know what you want and to go after it? I would've thought you'd admire that quality in me. We're alike in that way, you know."

    It was Delaney's turn to laugh, but the laughter was self-directed. He had denied a similar statement from Allie. He only wished he could truthfully deny this one as well.

    "Are you boasting, Sarah? I wouldn't, if I were you."

    "But you're not me, are you? You don't know what I think or what I've felt since the day you came here."

    "You were a child when I first came."

    "I was fourteen, and I wasn't a child. I knew what I wanted even then."

    Gracefully swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Sarah slowly drew herself to her feet. She paused, allowing Delaney to take in the full effect of the long batiste nightgown that barely concealed her nakedness under the diaphanous folds. She took    a short step forward, and the shadows of the dark erect crests of her full breasts were startlingly visible. Again he heard her low laughter.

    "Like what you see, Delaney? It's yours for the taking."

    Delaney shook his head, the hardening of his body contradicting his clear reply: "No, thank you."

    Anger flickered in Sarah's light green eyes. "Afraid, Delaney?"

    "No, I'm not afraid. I'm just too smart for you."

    "Too smart? I don't think so. You aren't smart enough to know what you're missing."

    "Oh, yes, I am."

    Sarah closed the distance between them in a few steps. Her body brushed his lightly, and he could feel her warmth. She slid her arms around his neck and clung tenaciously, pressing her body close to his. Her breasts were warm against his chest, and he could feel himself swelling at the erotic stimulation. He was tired, but damn, he wasn't that tired.

    "Sarah, you"

    Delaney's statement was cut abruptly short as Sarah raised herself on her toes and pressed her mouth firmly against his. Her kiss was hungry, aggressive, and he felt the rapid acceleration of his heart as he forced himself to remain unresponsive. Drawing away at last, Sarah circled his mouth with light, fleeting kisses, coaxing, taking advantage of a slight parting of his lips to slip her warm, moist tongue between them.