Heart of Gold (26 page)

Before she could lift the mare’s left front hoof, Matthew had dismounted too. “Allow me,” he said, stepping close.

She looked up and her breath caught in her chest. She’d stood near him before, but this time he felt taller, his shoulders broader, his eyes bluer. It was impossible to look away from him.

Matthew hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t even considered it a possibility. Not this soon and not this way.

But in that moment, standing so close to Shannon, seeing her beautiful eyes staring up at him, her generous mouth slightly parted, her chest rising and falling, only one thought existed—he wanted to kiss her. Wanted it more than anything he’d wanted in a long, long while.

She seemed to sway, first backward, then forward. His hands closed around her upper arms to steady her—and then to draw her to him. His head lowered, his gaze never breaking away from hers. Not until her image blurred because of her nearness. Only then did he close his eyes.

Her lips were soft. She tasted sweet. She went utterly still, not even seeming to breathe. A fire of wanting ignited within him.

“Uncle Matt!”

Matthew drew back from Shannon, releasing his grip on her arms.

Her eyes opened and went wide. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Yes,” he called to Todd without looking toward the boy.

“What’s keepin’ you?”

“Miss Shannon’s horse picked up a rock.”

Todd trotted his horse back in their direction. Matthew took another step away from the lady he wished he could keep on holding.

“I’ll check her hooves,” he said.

“Please do.” Her reply was a mere whisper. Then she turned and disappeared around the mare’s rump. Hiding from him. Getting as far away from him as she could without running for home and leaving her horse behind.

He wanted to call himself all kinds of a fool. For all of her friendliness toward him and his family, she wasn’t used to men like him grabbing and kissing her on a public road.

He lifted Ginny’s front left hoof. No stone. He repeated the motion with the hind left hoof. Nothing there either. He went around the back of the mare to repeat the procedure. At the same time, Shannon moved around the mare’s head.

Still hiding from him.

He stepped to the mare’s head and looked to where Shannon stood, her right hand resting on the seat of the saddle, her eyes lowered toward the ground. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

“Maybe I should lead her back to the livery. If she’s lame—”

He took a step toward her. Her head came up and her gaze met his.

“Please, Miss Adair,” he responded quickly. “Don’t go back.

Ride with us. Your horse isn’t lame. I’m sure she isn’t. Try her again.”

Splashes of pink rose in Shannon’s cheeks, and the color of her eyes seemed to go a shade deeper.

Matthew lowered his voice so Todd couldn’t hear. “I ask your forgiveness, Miss Adair. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The surprising thing was Shannon didn’t want his apologies. She wanted to be back in his arms with his lips upon hers. She wanted him to go on kissing her until she fainted for lack of oxygen.

Benjamin had kissed her on the mouth the day they’d become engaged. It hadn’t been anything like this. Brief and pleasant, as she recalled, and she’d felt fondly toward him afterward.

It wasn’t fondness she felt toward Matthew Dubois. It was more than that. Much more.

“Will you forgive me, Shannon?”

Her given name sounded sweet from his lips. She wished him to always use it. “Yes, Mr. Dubois. I forgive you. And I shall ride with you as long as Ginny is all right.”

“Thank you. I hadn’t given up hope that you would.”

Trying to take control of her emotions, she gave her head a slight toss. “I fear you think me entirely predictable.”

“You’re wrong,” he answered, eyes and voice serious. “I may think you many things, but never predictable.”

Was that a compliment or a criticism? She wasn’t sure. In truth, she didn’t care.

“Mornin’, Mrs. Jackson.”

Alice stirred in the chair on the veranda.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Didn’t realize you were asleep.”

“It’s all right.” She blinked away the slumber and forced her eyes to focus on the man standing on the steps. “Oh, Sheriff Dickson. Hello.”

“I was hoping to speak to Matt, if he’s got a minute to spare me.”

“He isn’t here at present. He’s gone riding with my son and Miss Adair.”

Jack glanced toward the road that went past the house. “Miss Adair, huh? Mighty pretty woman.”

And one who isn’t available to you, sir
. Her brother had warned her that Jack had a way with the ladies.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked.

His question took her by surprise. “If you wish.” She motioned to the chair beside her.

“Matt told me you haven’t been feeling well.” He removed his hat as he looked at her.

Alice was quite certain Matthew hadn’t said it that way. He would have told his good friend the truth, that his sister was not expected to live long. But apparently he had done so after Jack had come for supper at the Dubois home rather than before. She liked Jack Dickson and decided to be candid with him.

“My time is short, Mr. Dickson.” And perhaps this was the best opportunity to make certain he knew that his attentions toward Shannon would not be welcomed. “But it’s good to know Todd will have the love of Matthew and Miss Adair when I’m gone.”

Jack said nothing.

“My brother intends to ask Shannon to marry him.”

This caused an instant wide-eyed reaction. “Matt, married?”

“When my brother returns to driving stages, he’ll need a wife to watch over Todd, and Shannon has grown very fond of my son while she’s been helping care for me.”

“Ah. I see.”

She wished she could say Matthew and Shannon loved each other, but she supposed that was wanting too much too soon. “They will do well together.” And love would come. She believed it in her heart. Both were loving people. Both tried to honor and serve God. How could love not grow between them?

Jack spun his hat on an index finger. “Mrs. Jackson. I was wondering, are you feeling up to attending the town’s festivities on Monday? If you are, I hoped you’d consider going with me.”

It was her turn to look surprised.

“It sure would be my pleasure to be your escort,” he added quickly. “And your boy, too, of course. We wouldn’t stay longer than you wanted. If you got tired or started feeling poorly, I’d bring you straight home.”

“That’s very kind of you, Sheriff. I hadn’t considered going, but now that you mention it . . .”

She felt a spark of excitement. It would be fun, and if she went with Jack Dickson, she wouldn’t be in the way of Matthew and Shannon. Her brother could concentrate on courting and not on caring for either Alice or Todd. And, if she was completely honest, it was nice to have the sheriff want to escort her. It had been a long time since a man had seen her as a woman.

“Yes, Mr. Dickson. I will go with you.”

Jack grinned. “Well, all right, then. I’ll come for you about six o’clock.” He rose, set his hat back on his head. “Tell your brother I was by. Nothing urgent. I’ll catch up with him another time.”

24

It was difficult for Shannon to decide what to wear to the town’s celebration of the Fourth of July. Her ball gowns wouldn’t be appropriate for this occasion, and Matthew had seen her in all of her best day dresses. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to be able to go to Mrs. Treehorn’s shop. But her father had already bought Ginny for her. Another new gown would be asking too much. She would do well to practice being content with what she had, as the Bible instructed.

Having made her decision—a dress with a white bodice and a red skirt, the yards of fabric filled out by a number of petticoats—she sat at the dressing table and brushed her hair. Before long, her image in the mirror blurred as her thoughts returned to Matthew and the kiss they’d shared on their ride two days before. A kiss that had shaken her to her core and left her wanting more of the same.

Matthew
.

Who would have thought it, that she would find herself missing this man whenever they weren’t together? He was nothing like Benjamin Bluecher Hood or any of the other young men of Virginia who had sought her affections. None of those boys—for that’s what they’d been, mere boys—had made her feel the way this man made her feel.

Were his feelings the same? Did he long to be with her? Was he even now counting the minutes until he would be in her company? Did he think her beautiful?

If her mother were still alive, Adelyn Adair would warn Shannon not to concentrate on her outward appearance but on the inward. “Clothe yourself with the garments of modesty and virtue,” her mother had often told her. “Those are qualities that a proper gentleman will seek in a wife. A man who wants only physical beauty is not worth catching. Remember that, my dear.”

Tears pooled suddenly in Shannon’s eyes. How she missed her mother. If only she could be with her now. She wished she could know what her mother might think of Matthew if she met him. Would she approve? Her father seemed to like Matthew, but her father was more interested in Shannon discovering her own feelings than in expressing his. His advice was often subtle and couched in questions to be explored. Her mother, on the other hand, hadn’t been the sort to mince words, although they had always been gently spoken.

How simple her life had been before the loss of her mother. Shannon’s world had revolved around church and balls and horseback riding and dinners with friends and innocent flirtations. The future hadn’t been confusing or frightening. She had known exactly what it looked like. She would become engaged and marry a man of whom her parents approved.

She would make a home somewhere in Virginia for her husband and the children who would be born. She would host parties and be a valued partner in her husband’s business affairs, just as her mother had been a valued partner in her father’s. And other wives and young women would look to Shannon for advice.

What a difference nine years—and a war—had made.

But if we never came to Idaho, I wouldn’t know Matthew
.

She blinked away the tears and stared at her reflection once again.

To never have met Matthew Dubois. That was too terrible a circumstance to contemplate. He had become important to her. She cared for him. She shouldn’t, she supposed. He was nothing like the boys who had won her affections in the past. And yet— “Shannon,” her father said from the other side of her bedroom door. “Mr. Dubois is here.”