Yesterday's Roses (26 page)

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Authors: Heather Cullman

BOOK: Yesterday's Roses
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Jake let his gaze caress Hallie's face. “You have my word on it. I promise to be most attentive to Dr. Gardiner.”

“As for the matter with Nick Connelly—”

“Leave Nick Connelly to me,” Jake snapped. “I'll make sure he receives proper compensation for his part in this matter.”

Davinia chortled at the threat in Jake's voice. “Compensation in the form of a fist in the face, I'd wager.” She chuckled and bent over to whisper into Hallie's ear. “I'd hate to be in Nick Connelly's shoes when Jake catches up with him. I have the very unchristian notion that he'll get exactly what he deserves!”

Hallie leaned forward to look out the window as Jake's carriage came to a clattering stop. The Mission House at last. Never had the old frame building looked quite as welcoming as it did at that moment. The curtains had yet to be drawn for the evening, and the warm glow from the gaslights was spilling through the window-panes, infusing the raindrops beading the glass with a diamondlike brilliance. Visible to passersby was the charming tableau of several mission workers bedecking a Christmas tree with gaily colored ornaments.

“Home,” Davinia boomed, breaking the awkward silence which had prevailed for most of the ride from the jail. “Don't know how we can ever thank you enough, my boy. You went way beyond your Christian call of duty to pay for the burial of that Chinese girl.” She leaned forward to pat Jake's cheek with motherly approval.

“You know I'm always glad to help in any way possible. All you have to do is ask.”

“Proves my point, eh, Hallie? Always said there was more to Jake Parrish than just that sinfully handsome face and that nice backside.”

“Davinia!” Hallie gasped, genuinely shocked by Davinia's reference to Jake's buttocks, while Jake collapsed against his seat in a paroxysm of laughter.

“It's nothing but the gospel truth,” insisted Davinia, giving Jake a naughty wink. He emitted a loud whoop of hilarity in response. Training her gaze on Hallie, she frowned. “Never could abide folks who hem and haw about things that are common knowledge, and it's common knowledge that Jake Parish has a fine backside. The ladies at the mission have been known to discuss the subject in great detail from time to time. I seem to remember you partaking in that particular discussion as well, Hallie.”

Hallie shrank deeper into the engulfing folds of Jake's heavy cloak, which was draped around her shoulders, and prayed,
Please, God, let the ground open up and swallow me now …

Though the ground remained firmly closed beneath her feet, God seemed to be in a magnanimous mood and she was saved the humiliation of having to respond by the driver, who picked that particular moment to open the door.

Clasping Jake's hand and giving it an energetic pump, Davinia said, “Well, thanks again and Merry Christmas. You can be sure I'll include you in my prayers tonight. A man's soul can never have too many prayers said on its behalf, you know.”

Jake chuckled as Davinia ducked through the door. “Make sure you include my backside in your prayers too. It seems to be one of my few admirable traits these days. And Merry Christmas to you, too.”

Hallie fumbled to remove Jake's cape while Davinia was assisted out of the carriage by the driver. Avoiding Jake's eyes, Hallie murmured, “Thank you. You've been extremely kind.” Folding the fine woolen garment in half, she extended it to him and made to rise. “I'll meet you at the courthouse day after tomorrow. Nine o'clock sharp.”

“No, you won't.” He gently pushed her back against the seat. “You're in my custody, remember? You'll be staying at my house until after you've seen Judge Dorner.”

“You can't be serious!” she gasped. “I have patients to attend, and then there's the mission's Christmas celebration in the morning. I promised to play carols on the pianoforte.”

“I didn't know you played.”

“‘Play' isn't exactly what I'd call what she does to the instrument. But she's all we've got,” Davinia chimed in, poking her head back in the carriage. “What's this about Hallie staying at your house?”

“She's in my custody until day after tomorrow. As her custodian, I've decided that she needs food, a bath, and a good night's sleep, the last of which I doubt she'll get here.”

Davinia considered his words for a moment and then shrugged. “You're probably right. Undoubtedly someone will send for her in the middle of the night, and she'll go flitting off to their rescue. Besides, we wouldn't want to break the law, would we?”

“I can't—” Hallie began as Davinia pulled her head out of the carriage to confer with the driver.

But Jake cut her off, “You can and you will. As your legal guardian, I insist that you put that cape on before you catch pneumonia.” He studied her raptly for a moment. “Not that the view isn't breathtaking, mind you.”

She let her gaze follow his and was aghast to discover the source of his scrutiny. Her torn bodice was gaping wide open to reveal a shocking expanse of her breasts. Tossing the cape across her exposed flesh, she sputtered, “Will you stop ogling me like some kind of—of—
callow schoolboy!
If you were any kind of gentleman at all, you would've tactfully averted your eyes.”

A slow, knowing smile painted itself across Jake's lips. With a throaty laugh that sent shivers down Hallie's spine, he mused, “But I'm neither a schoolboy nor, in this situation, a gentleman. I'm simply a man who enjoys the pleasure of looking at a beautiful woman. Especially one who's offering so much to see.”

With a gasp of outrage, Hallie clutched the cape tighter.

Davinia thrust her head back into the carriage. “Make sure you bring Hallie by in the morning so she can hack her way through those Christmas carols.”

“I wouldn't dream of missing it.” He laughed, signaling for the driver to close the door. “It should prove to be an entertaining experience.”

The horses had picked up their pace, their hooves drumming steadily on the deserted streets, before either of the occupants of the carriage spoke again.

“So you like my backside, do you?” Jake inquired soberly.

Hallie rolled her eyes to the heavens. Wasn't it just like Jake Parrish to pursue such an improper topic of conversation? And what could she say? It wouldn't do any good to lie. Davinia had already made sure he knew that she had noticed his posterior. What could she do but admit, “I-It's very nice.”

“Is that from a doctor's, or a woman's, point of view?”

She sighed with exasperation. She'd answered his question. Why couldn't he just let the subject drop? Adopting her most professional manner, spine stiff and tone brisk, she replied, “As a doctor, my primary interest in your backside would stem from the necessity to take your temperature or to give you an enema. Unless you're prone to boils in that area, which, of course, would necessitate lancing. Seeing as you aren't feverish, in need of an enema, or, I assume, plagued by boils, what do you think?”

“I think I'm pleased that there's something about me that you find attractive. It's a relief to know that you don't find me completely repulsive.”

Hallie was stunned by his words and even more so by the bitterness with which they were uttered. Repulsive? Lord! Didn't the man realize that she was infatuated with every last wonderful inch of him? She shook her head, perplexed. “What in the world would make you think I find you repulsive?”

“I may be many things, but stupid isn't one of them. You made your feelings quite clear this morning. I'm worldly enough to know when a woman doesn't want me.” There. He'd finally said it. And it made him feel as sick as if someone had just kicked him in the stomach.

“N-Not want you?” Hallie was dumbfounded. How could he think such a thing? Especially after the way she had responded to his caresses that morning. Didn't he know that there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to be in his arms? She distractedly pleated the fabric of his cape between her fingers. Perhaps he was teasing her again?

But as she glanced at his face, which was clearly illuminated by the carriage lantern, the naked vulnerability of his expression and the terrible longing in his eyes drove home the truth. He wanted her. Beautiful Jake Parrish wanted plain Hallie Gardiner. Impossible, but true.

“Jake, I—” The words died in her throat. How many nights had she lain sleepless, tormented by the picture of his handsome face, wishing for a moment such as this? And when she had at last fallen into an uneasy sleep, how many times had she dreamt the hopeless dream in which he desired her as much as she desired him? In truth, there hadn't been a day—or a night—since they had met when he hadn't occupied her thoughts, and now that her dreams had turned into reality, she found herself as tongue-tied as a debutante at her coming-out ball.

With a sigh, Jake turned his face until it was hidden in the shadows. It was so like Hallie to be kind in her rejection.

“It's all right,” he finally said, trying to spare her the embarrassment of expressing her objections, and himself the pain of hearing them. “I understand. I can't blame you for not wanting to be saddled with a foul-tempered cripple. A woman like you deserves a whole man. One who can offer you a love untainted by a bitter past, and a houseful of children to love, which we both know I can't give you.”

The quiet dignity of his voice lacerated her. Didn't he realize that all she wanted was him? Finding her voice at last, she choked, “Jake—”

“No. You don't have to say anything. Just remember that I'd be honored to remain your friend and to—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Hallie hurled herself across the narrow space separating them and threw her arms around his neck, knocking his top hat to the floor. Without further ado, she ground her lips fiercely against his.

“I love you, you foolish man,” she declared between kisses. “And I want you more than I can say.”

With a groan, Jake grasped her around her waist and hauled her onto his lap. “Not nearly as much as I want you, sweet Mission Lady.” And as their gazes met in the flickering lantern light, he found his salvation in the loving tenderness of her eyes.

Never in his life had he felt so alive as he did at that moment, for deep in the barren wasteland of his heart, Hallie Gardiner had planted seeds of hope, and her love, like the warm summer sun, had coaxed it to spring forth and bloom. Once again, after months of merely existing for the moment, he dared to dream of a happy future.

“I love you,” Hallie repeated, reaching up to cradle his face in her trembling palm. It was all too wonderful to believe. He really was
her
Jake. Hers to love, treasure, and touch. Hers to kiss whenever she felt the urge … which was now.

As if he had read her thoughts, Jake's mouth smothered hers with a savage intensity that made her quiver. But this time she felt no guilt or shame at her desire, and she burrowed her hands into the ebony silk of his hair, boldly urging him on.

With reckless abandon, she returned his kiss, instinctively parting her lips to the heated demand of his questing tongue. And as the kiss deepened, she hungrily answered his seductive beckoning, letting her eager response match his with a passion that stunned her senses. If what she felt was sinful, then she would gladly burn in the fires of hell forever.

It wasn't until Jake had eased Hallie back onto the yielding surface of the seat, his body covering hers, that he finally drew his lips away. He couldn't help grinning like the proverbial idiot when she made a moue of disappointment. There was such unexpected fire in his prim little Mission Lady—he reveled in the joy of kindling it.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he let his gaze move from Hallie's prettily flushed face down to where her breasts lay partially exposed in the tattered remnants of her gown. Rising softly with each breath, those globes were as succulent as perfectly ripened peaches, the delicate ivory of the skin blushing to dusky apricot where one nipple peeked out from the mound of fabric. His reaction to the sight of that tender peak was swift and violent.

He moaned. His manhood was rapidly becoming the bane of his existence. Ever since he'd met Hallie Gardiner, that particular region of his body had been chronically inflamed. Perhaps he should submit to one of her famous ice treatments. Or try dosing himself with some saltpeter.

He shifted his hips uncomfortably, trying to ease the now tight fit of his trousers. Damn thing ached. Worse yet, it was like a stick of dynamite—and Hallie was like a lit match. All it took was one touch from her and it exploded. Not a comforting thought, considering his dismal performance that morning.

Mustering every ounce of control he had left, which admittedly wasn't much, Jake forced himself to pull away from the temptation of Hallie's bewitching body.

God! That act alone should be enough to qualify me for sainthood,
he thought, staring down at her longingly. Lying there in half-clothed splendor, her eyes luring him with sensual promise, Hallie Gardiner was enough to tempt the pope right out of his vestments.

Which was almost more than a man in Jake's sexually deprived state could bear. His hands trembling with desire, Jake hastily covered the tantalizing sight of Hallie's breasts with his cloak and tugged her into a sitting position.

“Jake?” she whispered, hurt by the abruptness with which he had pulled away. Had her inexperience been so obvious and her kisses so woefully lacking, that he found her efforts unpleasant? After all, he was the only man she had ever kissed. Well, the only man she'd ever kissed like
that,
at any rate. And a man like Jake was bound to have had plenty of experience in such matters.

Bowing her head to hide her distress, she murmured, “I'm sorry if I did something wrong.”

“Wrong, Mission Lady?” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her midsection and drawing her close until her back rested against his chest. “You did everything too right. In another few minutes, you would have had me making a mess of my trousers again, and I had a hard enough time explaining the stain from this morning to Hop Yung.”

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