Lauri Robinson (3 page)

“You convince her to take the money?” Cord asked as soon as Spencer pushed the door open.

“No.” He stomped toward the stove, and the coffeepot, still not quite sure what had happened back at Della’s. Spencer held the empty pot in the air. “Am I the only one that makes coffee around here?” He plopped the pot back on the stove. “She went to find Lance Westmeier to see if they could work out an
arrangement
.”

“I see,” Cord said.

Spencer hooked a thumb on the edge of his pants pocket and tapped his toe on the floor, trying in earnest to comprehend what Cord understood. Letting out a sigh, he walked over and fell into a chair. “Well, I don’t.”

“Did you really expect her to take your money?”

“Yes,” Spencer answered without hesitation.

Cord shook his head.

“What?” Spencer asked, leaning forward to brace his elbows on both knees, ready and willing to listen to any kind of advice or logic.

Cord leaned back and folded both arms across his chest. “Would you take money from someone if you were in her shoes?”

“Of course not. But I’m a man.” Spencer gestured to the door. “She’s a woman. They’re supposed to be taken care of.”

“And that, my friend, is your first mistake. There’s a big difference between taking care of a woman, and ruling her life.”

“I’m not trying to rule her life.”

“Aren’t you?” Cord leaned forward. “Did you ask her if she wanted your help?”

“Well, no.”

“Why?”

“Because she’d have said no.” Spencer hung his head, exhausted in so many ways.

“Your mother died when you were very young, didn’t she?” Cord asked.

Spencer let out a sigh, not in the mood to stroll down memory lane. “Yes, I was three when Trig was born.”

“And your father never remarried?”

“Nope, said there wasn’t another woman to compare to Ma. Besides, there was no reason to, we got along just fine.”

Cord shuffled a stack of papers, set them on the corner of his desk. “I was raised by one of the strongest women in the state. No one ever told my mother what to do. Years ago my father said the only time a man can tell a woman what to do is when gunshots are ringing in the air, then you can tell them to get out of the line of fire.”

Spencer cracked a smile, imagining burly old Wes Donavon saying such a thing. Then an eerie sensation tickled his spine. “Are you saying I shouldn’t have told Della not to marry Isaac Cramer twelve years ago?”

“You told her not to marry Isaac?”

The image forming in Spencer’s mind was the first time he’d seen Della—a couple of years before
that night
. “She and Otis stopped out at our place when they first arrived in Kansas. She was just a skinny kid, riding an old mule he led with a rope. Otis was looking for work. Trig and I didn’t have anything to offer, so I told them to go to Ester Cramer’s. I knew she needed a handyman and figured the girl could help with the boarders. Afterward, I’d stop by whenever I was in town, just to check up on them.”

Growing fidgety, Spencer rose from the chair. Della had blossomed in Ester’s care. Practically overnight she’d become the prettiest young woman he’d ever seen, and over the next couple of years, he’d scratched up every excuse to make a trip to town and see her. Then Isaac had returned, boasting his fancy eastern clothes and bragging about his education.

The M & M had been doing well, even after his father died, but Spencer knew he had to do something different to make it an empire. Purebreds became his goal, and he set up the trip to Texas. He’d gone to town that night because he couldn’t leave without telling her goodbye. It hadn’t been until she mentioned marrying Isaac he understood his real reason for wanting to see her.

For a moment it felt as if ice entered his veins, just as it had when he’d returned from Texas and discovered Della had married Isaac. He’d spent the next five years herding cows from Texas to Kansas, rarely stepping foot in El Dorado. On one of those few trips home, he’d headed to town and come across Ester Cramer’s funeral. After seeing Della and Isaac arm in arm, he spent even more time down in Texas—until Trig said they’d have to buy more land if he drove home anymore cows.

Spencer rubbed his chin. He couldn’t tell Cord all of that. “When I heard Della was going to marry Isaac, I told her not to. You know as well as I what a snot-nosed brat Isaac had always been.” Cringing, he offered a silent request for forgiveness for speaking ill of the dead.

“What did she do when you told her that?”

“She slapped me.” His heart thudded in his chest and sweat beaded on his neck. He’d wished, practically every day since, that he’d asked her to marry him that night. He’d have given her the home he now knew she’d longed for. But he hadn’t.

“You gonna marry her?”

Defense rose in Spencer. “Just ‘cause you tied the knot doesn’t mean it’s meant for the rest of the world.” Slapping his hat back on his head, he stood and walked to the door.

“Where you going?” Cord asked.

Eating warm crow wasn’t any easier than eating cold crow. “To ask her,” Spencer admitted.

“Ask her what?”

Frustrated, Spencer huffed the air out of his chest and pulled open the door. “What she wants to do and what I can do to help.”

“Let me know how that goes for you,” Cord’s voice echoed in his ears as he stepped off the stoop.

Della paced her kitchen. Mr. Lance Westmeier was a discourteous, ruthless man. No, the man had said, he wouldn’t need a housekeeper, and no, he had no intention of owning a boardinghouse. He was going to convert it into a gambling house. A gambling house of all things!

She’d spoken with Mrs. Agnew, too, the hotel owner’s wife, but they weren’t in need of assistance, either.

Her choices were dwindling as fast as she thought of them.

The clip of boot heels on the front steps had her hastening from the kitchen and through the parlor. Mr. Westmeier had said he’d stop by to assess his property, and she was fully prepared to give him a piece of her mind.

Della skidded to a stop when the window exposed Spencer walking across the porch. A softness overcame her heart, and she pulled the door open before he knocked.

“Hello.”

The huskiness of his voice made her chest flutter with a longing sigh. Licking her dry lips, she peered up. His tender gaze had her wondering if she’d been too hasty this morning.

He tugged her through the open doorway. “Sit on the swing with me.”

Warmth spread throughout her system as she followed him onto the wide porch.

“You went to see Lance Westmeier?” he asked as they sat.

Knots formed in her stomach, and her ire peaked again. “Yes.” She let out a huff. “That man is incorrigible.”

“He is?”

“Yes,” she stated with emphasis. “He is.”

“What did he say?”

A week ago, she’d never have imagined sitting on the porch and visiting with Spencer, but right now, it felt like the most natural thing on earth. “That he plans on opening a gambling house.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

Spencer let out a little chuckle.

It was a nice sound, one she’d like to hear every day, but at the same time, it made her frown. “What’s so funny about that?”

He touched the tip of her nose, and the sensation sent a little tickle all the way to her heart. “Nothing, other than the man doesn’t know much about Kansas laws.” Growing a bit more serious, he continued, “Last year Kansas made it illegal to manufacture or sell intoxicating liquors. I don’t think too many folks around here gamble when they’re sober.”

“But Sister Marie’s sells liquor.”

“Yes, because Marie’s place was approved by the city council as a private club. The state knew cities would lose a lot of tax dollars when the legislation passed, so they left a few loopholes open. I doubt El Dorado will issue the same liberties they gave Marie to someone else. Especially not a newcomer.”

Della knew she was dewy-eyed, but Spencer was such a smart man it just couldn’t be helped. She’d always been intrigued by the Temperance Society that met regularly and once had a boarder campaigning for Governor St. John, but the boardinghouse kept her too busy to get involved with politics. With no one to discuss the issues with, there wasn’t much point in it anyway. Of course, being the deputy, Spencer would know all about such things.

“So,” she said, feeling a glimmer of satisfaction. “Mr. Westmeier’s business might fail before it starts.”

“Possibly.” Spencer shrugged. “I can’t say for sure.” His eyes narrowed a touch as he gazed her way. “What are you thinking?”

How wonderful it is sitting here with you,
immediately rose to the tip of her tongue. She shrugged. “Nothing.” She took in his image again. He was clean shaven, as usual, and dark hair that could use a trim curled around the rim of his hat and over the top of his shirt collar. Another thought entered her mind. “Where are you staying?”

“What?”

She glanced toward Cord’s house. “You used to live with Cord, but now that he’s married, where are you staying?”

“At the hotel,” he said. “Why?”

“I was just curious.” Her insides stirred, imagining how delightful it would be to meet him at the door each evening, or wake in his arms every morning. Of course his ranch was several miles from town, but since becoming a deputy, he rarely stayed out there.

“Della,” he said, capturing her gaze.

She swallowed, entranced by his stare and holding her breath to secure the moment forever. To live, here, beside him for an eternity would be utopia at its finest. She’d live in a cave if Spencer was beside her.

“I came by to ask you what you want to do.”

A swirling fog had overcome her mind. She blinked, asking, “What I want to do?”

“I understand why you won’t take any money. So I came to ask what I can do to help.”

Certain she’d missed a part of the conversation she shook her head to dispel the fog. “Help?”

He pressed a gentle hand to her forehead. The touch caused the mist inside her head to thicken and made her heart race. “Are you feeling all right?” he asked.

“Hmm, yes,” she mumbled. Leaning closer, enthralled by the shape of his mouth, especially the line where the top lip met the bottom. She licked her own.

“Della.” He sounded hoarse and breathless.

Deep inside, Della quivered, growing warm and moist. The sensation wasn’t new. There were nights when dreams of Spencer woke her. Covered in sweat and so keenly affected she’d have to pretend he was there, touching her, before her body would find release and settle down enough for her to draw a breath. The sensations were that strong right now, and the last bits of her willpower slipped away.

“Spencer,” she whispered. “Kiss me.” A second later, she added, “Please.”

His mouth captured hers, and unlike before, this time she held nothing back. Kissing him like a woman does the man she loves, fully, deeply, passionately.

A poignant heat traveled through her system. She arched her back, stretching toward him and pressing herself to his chest. The raw pleasure had her blood pounding through her veins, chanting new desires with every pulse of her heart. To lay with him, disperse of their clothes and unite as one became an all-consuming need.

Mere moments before she begged him to take her upstairs, Spencer broke the kiss. Gasping for air, she let her head fall onto his shoulder.

“Marry me, Della.”

The pounding of her heart was so loud she couldn’t have heard correctly. He couldn’t possibly have asked her to marry him. “What?”

He leaned back and pressed her hands onto his chest where the firm, steady beat of his heart thundered beneath her fingertips. “I have a cabin out at the ranch, and plans drawn up to build a big house. Plenty of room for you, Anna and Elsie. I’ll take care of you Della, all three of you, for the rest of your lives. You’ll never have to worry about having a home ever again. I promise.”

Della closed her eyes as the world came rushing forward, but then a clash of emotions erupted inside her. Burning tears trickled between her lashes as she shook her head. He’d said he’d take care of them, but hadn’t said anything about love.

Spencer drew in a deep breath, to brace against her answer and to give him the strength to continue. Kissing her had taken him back again. To the night by the pine tree. He wouldn’t give up so easily this time. “Why not? Give me one good reason, and I’ll walk away.” With the ball of his thumb, he rescued a lone tear sliding down her cheek. “But it has to be a very good reason.”

The anguish playing upon her face ate at his heart, but he wasn’t going to stop. “Tell me why, Della. Why won’t you marry me?”

“I got married once before because I thought I wanted a home, and that was wrong.
I
was wrong. A home wasn’t what I was looking for.”

Half-afraid of her answer, but needing to know, he asked, “Then what is it? What are you looking for?”

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. “Love.”

The floor beneath his feet fell away. He loved her. Had for years, but saying it to himself was completely different than saying it to her. What if she didn’t love him back? He couldn’t head to Texas this time.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Spencer.”

“What?” He hadn’t meant to sound so stern, but a fierce fear squeezed his chest.

“Do you remember that night when you came to say goodbye before going to Texas?” she asked.

Like it was yesterday, his mind screamed as he answered, “Yes.”

“I thought marrying Isaac would give me everything I wanted until that night. Until you kissed me.”

Guilt tried to wiggle its way into his chest, but he wouldn’t let it. He no longer regretted kissing her, matter of fact he’d wished he done it long before then.

She glanced around before saying, “I knew that night I shouldn’t marry Isaac, but I was so set on having a home, of never having to move again…”

Her sorrow ate at him. “You were young, Della, and—”

“That’s an excuse, Spencer. Just an excuse. Yes, I was young, but I had choices. I could have found another position. If only I could have seen beyond sleeping in the same bed night after night. In an odd way I thought a home brought family, love and happiness.” She shook her head. “But it doesn’t. A house is just a house. A home is what the people living in it make it.”

He took her hand, held it between both of his. “You made his house a home, Della. For you and your daughters.”

She turned to gaze at the front door. “But deep down, I’ve always felt as if I don’t belong here.”

The need to explain what he felt deep down escaped before he could stop it. “The entire way to Texas and back I thought about you. Prayed you wouldn’t marry Isaac.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I did.” It was time to tell her everything. He had nothing left to lose. “I realized I loved you that night, Della, and I still do. I wish I’d known then what I know now.” He shook his head, tossing aside regrets that held no place in the future. “When I heard Isaac had left town, I accepted the deputy job so I could make sure you were doing all right.”

Her eyes, slightly misty and shimmering green, darted over his face. “You put your life in danger every day as a lawman because of me?”

He squeezed her fingers. “It’s not that dangerous.”

“Yes, it is.”

He didn’t believe that, but didn’t want to argue the issue. They had other things, more important things to discuss. “I shouldn’t have told you what to do that night. I’m sorry for that. It just caught me off guard. I felt responsible for you since I was the one that told Otis to come to Ester’s for work. I—”

“Spencer,” she interrupted. “Were you the one who asked the city council to hire me to provide lunches for the jail?”

His ears warmed. Swallowing, he nodded.

“And the one who convinced the school board to pay for the teacher to stay here?”

He nodded again.

She appeared to be deep in thought. Spencer’s heart thudded painfully, and when it grew impossible for him to sit through the quiet, he said, “Della, I know it’s too soon after hearing about Isaac. I should never have asked you to marry me, but—”

She laid a finger upon his lips. “When I was four years old, our plantation was raided during the war. Otis and I were the only survivors. For the most part, I don’t remember much, other than moving and moving. There weren’t many positions for a slave with a white child in tow. In Missouri Otis worked for an elderly widow. She grew ill and before she died she told us to go her son-in-law’s house in Kansas. She’d talked about him often and her grandsons, Spencer and Trig.”

Spencer’s skin rippled under the weight of emotion. “My mother’s mother lived in Missouri, but I don’t remember her.”

“She knew you. Even had a picture of you as a baby with your mother and father.”

He knew the picture, a copy of it hung in his father’s old bedroom, back at the ranch.

“She talked of your father fondly, said he never remarried because he loved Adeline too much.”

Spencer had to blink at the way his eyes filled with moisture. “He did. He loved her until the day he died.”

“I know now that’s what I’ve always wanted,” Della said softly. “A man who’d love me more than anything else in the world. With him, anyplace would be home.”

“I do love you, Della, and I will forever,” Spencer whispered.

Before he could see her reaction Della turned to the road where a shout sounded, “Momma! Momma!”

Della watched Anna and Elsie run through the front gate, her heart sinking at the intrusion while beating happiness through her heart at the same time. Spencer did love her. He had done all these years.

Anna waved excitedly. “Mrs. Carmichael finished the story today.”

Della lifted her gaze to Rachel Carmichael, the schoolmarm, and Otis following the girls. The girls had talked of little else other than the chapter book their teacher was reading to them, but right now, Della couldn’t remember what it was about.

“Must have been a good story,” Spencer said.

“Oh, it was, Deputy Monroe…want me to tell you about it?” Elsie asked, hopping up the steps.

“I’d like that,” he answered.

The bliss filling Della’s soul said it was time to accept everything Spencer had offered. She reached out and grasped his hand as he rose from the swing. When he glanced down at her the love in her heart grew so immense her breath caught.

“I saw you sitting on the porch. Figured it was all right to let the girls come home,” Otis said.

Spencer nodded, but said to her, “I asked Otis to keep the girls after school so we could talk.”

Della was torn. She loved her daughters—needed to tell them about Isaac, but she wanted more time with Spencer. To give him her answer. Turning to the schoolteacher, she asked, “Mrs. Carmichael, would you mind taking the girls inside for a cookie or two?”

“Of course,” Rachel said, climbing the stairs. “Would you care to join us, Deputy Monroe?”

Della wanted to say no, but Spencer spoke first. “You best talk to Otis for a minute,” he told her. “He’s been worried about you.”

Her eyes grew misty. Spencer truly was more precious than she’d even imagined. He understood that Otis had been the mainstay of her life since the day she’d been born, and cared about it.

As if reading her thoughts, Spencer squeezed her hand before letting it go, giving her a gentle smile. “I’d like a cookie, that’s for sure,” he said. “And that story must have been a doozy.” He wrapped an arm around each of the girls and guided them toward the door.

“A doozy! That’s funny, Deputy Monroe,” Elsie exclaimed. The excitement on her daughter’s faces, as well as how enthusiastically they accepted Spencer’s company had more joy rising inside Della. Both Anna and Elsie liked Spencer; they spoke of him often, and at least once a week came home with a candy stick or other sweet treat he’d given them on their way home from school. He’d be the kind of father the girls had never known, but truly needed.

Oh, how different things could have been if she’d listened to her heart years ago. She’d been so foolish. But no longer. No longer. “Spencer,” Della said before he disappeared into the house.

“Yes?” His blue eyes held a touch of trepidation.

Her cheeks grew warm, flushed by an excitement for things to come. “My answer is yes.”

He gave her a thoughtful, cautious look. “Yes?”

Happiness had her head bobbing. “Yes.”

The girls tugged on his arms. “Come on, Deputy Monroe.”

His eyes sparked and the grin that appeared on his face made Della’s heart soar. He glanced between the girls and her. “When?”

She looked at Otis, and then back to Spencer. They both had waited for a long time. Too long. “Tonight?”

It was obvious he wanted to fly across the porch and wrap those powerful arms around her. She wanted it, too, but in the end, he said, “All right then,” and then turned to rush the girls into the house. “Change of plans, girls, we got work to do, lots and lots of work to do.”

Della giggled, not slighted in the least that he hadn’t rushed to her side. That was just one of the things she loved about him. His restraint. That, and the fact he’d make up for it later this evening. They both would make up for years of restraint. With happiness practically bursting through her skin, she skipped down the stairs.

She folded her arms around Otis. “So, you’ve heard the news.”

He gave her a long hug. “Yes.” When they separated, Otis asked, “But all’s well?”

“Very well,” she admitted.

“He’ll be good to you. Deputy Monroe will take care of you and those girls long after I’m gone. You’ll never have to worry again. Neither will I.”

She’d thought her heart was full, but it swelled more. “He asked me to marry him.”

Otis nodded.

“He told you?”

“No. Didn’t have to. It’s been written on his face for years. Yours, too.”

“I love him.”

“I know you do. I’m happy about that.” Otis patted her cheek, and his eyes grew serious and misty. “I’ve a favor to ask of you, Miss Della. And if you say no, I’ll understand.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she vowed, “Anything, Otis, what is it?”

“I’d like to walk you down the aisle this time. I’d like to give you to Deputy Monroe.”

Her world couldn’t be more complete. Della wrapped her arms around Otis’s massive shoulders and kissed his weathered cheek. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Otis hugged her tight for several minutes, and then said, “Well, I best go round up the parson.”

Upon entering the house, Della was met by Rachel. “This way,” the woman insisted, pulling Della toward the stairs. “We have a wedding gown to pick out.”

“But—” Della started, dragging her feet and looking for Spencer.

“He’s out back, hauling in more water,” Rachel said, tugging harder.

“For what?”

“Your bath. By the time we have a gown picked out, the girls will have it full of hot water,” Rachel supplied.

A giggle from the kitchen sent a flutter of remorse mixing with her bubbling insides. “The girls,” Della said. “I have to tell them about Isaac.”

Rachel took Della’s hands. “Please forgive me, but I told them this morning. Mrs. Agnew told me the news when she brought Thomas to school. I know it wasn’t my place, but I was afraid he might say something to them.”

Della shook her head. Thomas Agnew was a little terror, everyone knew that. “There’s nothing to forgive. Thank you. I know they don’t really remember Isaac, and that, too, is my fault.”

“You’ll have time to talk with them tomorrow. Right now they’re very excited about the wedding. Let them enjoy it,” Rachel said.

All of a sudden bubbles of excitement exploded inside her. “I’m getting married,” Della whispered. “To the man I’ve loved for years.”

“I know. And he loves you.” Rachel pulled her toward the stairs. “Come on, we have a lot to do.”

Half an hour later Rachel carried a long ecru colored dress, decorated with pearls of the same shade and yards of pale pink lace downstairs to be pressed. And as the sun set outside the window Della sank deep into a tub full of steaming water.

Eyes closed, she was working a good frothing of suds in her hair when the doorknob clattered and the hinges creaked. “Goodness, Rachel, you are a wonder. I haven’t even washed my hair yet. I swear you just left a minute ago.”

“Rachel
did
leave a minute ago.”

Della’s eyes flew open, but the sharp sting of the soap had her squeezing them shut after catching only a blurry glimpse of Spencer. Splashing her face with water, she asked, “What are you doing up here?”

“I brought you some more water.”

His voice, next to the tub, sent tingles through the water and over her skin. “You shouldn’t be in here,” she halfheartedly insisted, wiping at her eyes with both hands.

A towel took over for her hands. Sighing, she let him dry her face and then opened her eyes.

“I had to,” he whispered.

“Had to what?” Breathless, she reached out to touch his cheek, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“See you. Tell you how much I love you, and always will.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and lifted her hand, kissing the base of her palm. His touch fired a thousand sparks throughout her body. His hand ran up her arm, and one finger traced a water droplet across her shoulder.

Her breasts, barely hidden beneath the bubbles floating on top of the water, tingled and her nipples hardened in anticipation of his touch. “I love you, too,” she whispered. “I have for a very, very long time.”

Spencer’s delightfully wicked fingertip stroked along her shoulder blade, pausing at the base of her neck, where her pulse literally leaped against her skin. He leaned over the water, his face inches in front of hers. “And you’ll marry me?”

“Yes,” she managed to whisper as their breath mingled.

Slow and easy, his lips swept over hers, stealing her breath and sending her heart tumbling across her chest. The kiss went on and on, soothing yet exhilarating. His tongue teased hers with demanding strokes that drove her into a frenzy and made her wish he’d lift her from the tub and carry her down the hall to her room.

“Spencer,” she whispered as his lips eased down her neck.

He lifted his head, gazing at her with simmering eyes. “You’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”