Lisa Plumley (13 page)

“His wager with
you
, of course. Since you lost, you’ll have to take part in honest labor in exchange for honest wages. Isn’t that correct?” Knowing full well that it was, she smiled. “I’m on good terms with everyone in town. I can help you find an apprenticeship as a wheelwright or a cooper or a blacksmith—”

“You said you hadn’t spoken with your father this morning.”

Cade sounded gobsmacked. She’d thought he might be. That’s why Violet hadn’t brought up any of these issues until now. They would have interfered with her greater mission: flying with Cade. Experiencing pleasure with Cade.
Loving
him, most of all.

“That’s right. But I
did
speak with Papa late last night after he got home from Jack Murphy’s saloon.” Violet sighed, remembering the rather awkward conversation she’d had with her father in the lantern-lit hours past midnight. “He really can be too overprotective of me at times, I’m afraid. As far as Papa is concerned, no one is ever good enough for me. Not that he’s had much opportunity to test that theory over the years, given my dearth of genuine suitors. Most of them,” she confessed, “were more interested in my friend Adeline than me.”

Slowly, Cade continued soaping her back. “Is that so?”

“It is.” Relieved to have this discussion out in the open at last, Violet nodded. “But
you
will be more than good enough for my father. I’m certain of it! In fact, I’m counting on it.”

“Counting on it?”

“Yes. So we can be together.” Wearing her most joyful smile, Violet tipped up her head. Her new viewing angle brought Cade’s hard-edged face into her sight. He appeared thoughtful. “So we can be together, just like this,” she clarified, “for as long as we want to be. Isn’t that why we’re here right now?”

“Right now, yes.” Cade continued his sensual soaping. “But I don’t plan to stay in Morrow Creek,” he reminded her.

Violet found it easy to overlook that detail. Surely Cade would change his mind once he became familiar with his new friends and neighbors. Coyly, she said, “Then I guess we’d better make the most of our time together right now, hadn’t we?”

“Minx,” Cade said a third time. Then he kissed her and smiled at her, and all was right between them—especially once the soapsuds fight broke out, and a new round of loving began.

Chapter Nine

“I
feel certain I’m going to regret this.” Full of equal measures disbelief and discomfort, Cade eyed the distant blacksmith’s shop. The place hunkered on the outskirts of Morrow Creek, a short walk from the schoolhouse and the town’s namesake creek. Even from a quarter mile away, Cade heard the clang of the blacksmith’s hammer striking an anvil at regular intervals. The sound came coupled with the persistent smell of smoke. “I once won a racehorse at the faro table. Keeping that beast in horseshoes nearly broke me. I lost it on purpose a week later.”

“Well, then. I guess blacksmithing must be lucrative.” Striding confidently beside him, Violet looped her arm in his. Her face positively beamed with encouragement. Her voice rang with faith in him. “Besides, you have to start somewhere. You might be excellent at blacksmithing, for all you know!” She gave his arm a heartening squeeze, inadvertently cradling him against her bosom. “You seem to be
very
good at everything else you do.”

“Mmm. We’re good together, I’d say.” Reminded of the languorous time they’d spent in his bed earlier that morning—and the several mornings before that—Cade quit walking. He couldn’t help feeling pleased that he’d impressed Violet. Because of her, he felt hopeful for the first time in years. “At least if the past few days are anything to go by. And I’d say they are.”

“They
definitely
are,” Violet agreed, holding him close.

“In fact, I think we may have left my hotel a bit hastily this morning,” Cade continued, pulling Violet toward a copse of ponderosa pines. He leaned against the nearest tree’s thick-barked trunk, then drew Violet closer to join him in that sheltered spot. He twined a bit of her hair in his fingers. Tenderly, he smiled at her. “We should have stayed in bed.”

“That would have been nice. And definitely warmer too!”

Agreeing with that in the best way he knew how, Cade kissed her. He still couldn’t believe that Violet—gentle, innocent, helpful Violet Benson—had enchanted him so thoroughly. Less than a week ago, she’d appeared at his hotel room door, full of cheeky talk of “reforming” him. She’d gotten under his skin. She’d shown him that love
might
be possible for him, despite the hard lessons of his past. Since then, almost against his will, Cade had begun hoping they could be together—hoping her scheme to help him forge a new, gambling-free life could really succeed.

Not that he felt entirely ready to take up that life straightaway, by beginning the one-day apprenticeship that Violet had arranged for him at Daniel McCabe’s smithy shop.

“Maybe we should dally here awhile,” Cade suggested instead, lowering his hands to her bosom. He loved touching her there. He loved touching her everywhere. Never had he known a partner more giving or enthusiastic or compassionate. Just being in Violet’s presence moved him deeply—so deeply, in fact, that Cade had already blurted out his most shameful secret to her, followed almost instantly by his most strongly felt fear.

No one has ever loved me,
he’d confessed to Violet while holding her close.
There’s no reason you should be different.

Yet she
was
different. Cade was powerfully glad of it.

“After all,” he went on, forcing himself from that painful memory as ruthlessly as he had on that earlier day, “I haven’t yet shown you how stimulating it can be to feel the fresh air on your bare skin—to make love outdoors, where there’s no one to hear you cry out in pleasure except the earth and the sky—”

“And that truck farmer working his fields over yonder...”

Cade followed her pointing finger. “Aha.” Another kiss. “That only means we’ll have to delve deeper into the forest.”

She laughed. “You’re incorrigible—and apparently immune to the chilly autumn weather, too.” She shivered as she glanced up at the cloudy territorial skies overhead. “It’s cold outside!”

“I’ll keep you warm,” Cade promised. He felt full to overflowing with fondness for her, overcome with a mixture of unaccustomed optimism and all-too-familiar swagger. He’d told Violet he loved her, after all...but he didn’t think she’d heard him. That’s the only reason he’d risked saying it at all.

Because some things weren’t meant to be wagered on—especially not love or the burgeoning promise of it. As much as Cade excelled at gambling, he wasn’t reckless. Not usually. Not like this—not the way he was with Violet...with hoping they could have a future together despite the sadness of his past.

But maybe finding Whittier—and the answers he could give—wasn’t the only route to the future he needed, Cade had begun to consider lately. Maybe abandoning his search for those answers was.

Not that he was keen to tell Simon Blackhouse as much. He still hadn’t informed his benefactor of the wager he’d lost with Reverend Benson—and its subsequent requirement that Cade forgo gambling altogether. With that restriction in place and the faro tournament’s qualifying games drawing to a close soon, his chance to find Percy Whittier might be slipping away, Cade knew.

But those were problems for another day—a day when he didn’t have an armful of kind, generous woman to love...even if he might have to do so amid the pine trees and nosy warbling birds.

“Be with me,” Cade urged Violet, wanting to forget everything except this moment...and this woman. Deftly he worked at her coat buttons, then slipped his hands inside. Blissful warmth, wonderful curves and the promise of Violet’s sweet love awaited him there. He could no more resist those things than he could forget why he’d come to Morrow Creek in the first place.

“You’re just trying to delay arriving at the blacksmith’s shop,” Violet averred, giving him a frisky swat. “Don’t worry. You can do this, Cade. If not this, then something else. I have several apprenticeships lined up for you. I’m good at helping people, remember? I won’t give up on you, no matter what.”

“Maybe you should. You wouldn’t be the first.”

“There you go, sounding gloomy again.” Frowning, she took his hand. She cradled it in hers, gazing intently into his face. “What happened to you, to make you believe such things?”

Yanked unwillingly from the warmth of their togetherness, Cade thought of orphan trains and cold nights and potential foster parents who tightened their lips and shook their heads at the notion of taking in two fast-growing, rascally foundling boys. He and Judah had tried appearing especially angelic once, hoping to lure in a decent caregiver. That had only landed them with a temporary “mother” who thought a swat was as good as a hug and hard factory labor was all that orphaned boys were good for.

Running away had seemed the only reasonable response.

“If I wanted work, would I make my living at cards?” Cade asked, hauling himself back to Violet by dint of sheer will—and doing his best to divert her from her troubling questions. “If I was meant for an ordinary life, would I be a sporting man?”

“
My
life is ordinary.” Violet crossed her arms, appearing wounded. “But I have good friends and satisfying work and—”

“And more good deeds to your credit than an angel can claim. I know.” With a grin, Cade held up his hands. He knew better than to push her on this. “I already promised you I’d go through with these apprenticeships.” Reminded then of another vow he’d made, Cade added, “I also promised you once that I’d make every man in Morrow Creek want you. I’m well on my way to having accomplished that. Getting my hands dirty at a few local businesses will be a good way to test the waters, even if the apprenticeships don’t work out. Because if you think I’m going to let just anyone have you without vetting them first—”

“‘Have’ me?” She snorted. “
That’s
not for you to say, Mr. Foster.” In a cavalier tone, Violet pressed onward. “What do you think we’ve been doing together all this time? I’ve already found the only man I want. While it’s true that he can be a stubborn, contrary cuss from time to time, I happen to be—”

“He doesn’t sound like much, this man of yours.”

“—awfully fond of him.” Showing that she meant she was fond of
him
, Violet smiled more broadly. “In any case, I no longer wish to be irresistible to the menfolk in Morrow Creek.”

“It would be good for you if you were,” Cade protested, warming further to the notion of using his trial employment as a way to fulfill his original promise to Violet. He could scarcely allow her to count on
him
for the future she deserved. She deserved better...much better than him. “Then when I do leave town, you’ll have your pick of suitors to—”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Violet interrupted crisply—almost as though she’d forgotten his vow to her and didn’t want to be reminded of it now, despite the bargain they’d made when she’d provisionally agreed to be his good-luck charm...and he’d offered to squire her around town in a sham courtship. “Right now, there are a few things you should know about Daniel McCabe, the blacksmith. He’s very happily married to the schoolmarm, Sarah, so don’t try to corrupt him as a means of avoiding work at his shop. You know you could do it.”

At her dire tone, Cade gave a sober nod. He probably
could
do that, it occurred to him. He possessed both persuasiveness and a knack for forging new friendships. He hadn’t thought of that work-avoidance strategy until right now, but if push came to shove and he was stuck in a corner...a bit of harmless, well-meant corruption might do the trick to liven up his workday.

“I would never do that,” he pledged, tamping down a smile.

“Don’t entice Mr. McCabe’s customers into a game of dice to help pass the time, either! That would make them like you, but it would
not
lead to accomplishing a productive day’s work.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Playfully, Cade tipped his hat to her.

“Don’t swear. Don’t dawdle. Don’t forget to be careful around the blacksmithing fire. Whatever else you do,
don’t
flirt with the customers, no matter how attractive they are.”

“But Violet, farmers wanting their plowshares mended are often
so
appealing.” Musingly, Cade tipped his face to the sky. “To say nothing of the lumbermen needing their axes repaired.”

“Very funny.” Violet’s eyes sparkled. “But you told me yesterday when we were having breakfast in bed together after our morning’s...
reforming
session—” she broke off, blushing at the undoubtedly racy memory of that clandestine encounter “—that you haven’t ever held a traditional job before, so—”

“What I said,” Cade protested mildly, “is that it had been a while since I’d had steady employment. I’m not a layabout! I simply happen to be better at collecting foolish men’s money than earning a regular workingman’s wage. That’s all.”

“That’s enough.”

He shrugged. “I can’t help it if I have a gift for gambling.”

“That’s not all you have a gift for.” With a devotedly take-charge air, Violet straightened his shirt collar. She patted down his freshly ironed vest, then plucked a bit of errant lint from that selfsame garment. Evidently satisfied, she smiled at him. “Also,
don’t
play faro or blackjack at work.”

“Right. I’d assumed you’d already covered that with your prohibition on craps. Shall we negotiate roulette next?”

“I just wanted to be certain you understood.”

“I would have to be softheaded not to.” Cade kissed her. “Has anyone ever told you you have spoilsport tendencies?”

“No.” Undaunted, Violet fussed over his hair. She sucked in a fortifying breath. “You’ll be brilliant today. So get going!”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather linger here?” Cade offered her his most winning smile. “Or maybe a little farther along in the forest? I hear the creek is scenic. I could take you there, standing up. Or maybe against a tree.” He patted the ponderosa pine behind him, then gave Violet a suggestive look. “You wouldn’t even have to remove your skirts. I could just lift them up a bit, slide my hand up your stockings to your garter...”

Hungrily, Cade demonstrated. Beneath Violet’s full skirts and layers of petticoats, he encountered warm woolen stockings, snugly fastened garters, delicate drawers...then, rewardingly, warm, soft skin. He stroked her thigh, loving the way she felt.

“All I need is a few inches more, and you’ll be mine,” he encouraged, feeling aflame at the idea of loving her in such an impulsive, almost illicit fashion. He’d envisioned the notion as a distraction from his impending workday, but now that he’d devised it... “We’d have such fun together, Violet. You know we would. I’d make you tremble and moan—I love it when you do that—and you’d make me forget everything...everything except you.”

Urgently, he kissed her. Their mouths met in a bruising pressure, familiar and demanding and passionate. The only thing Cade needed then was a nod, a smile, a breathy
yes
, and he’d be unable to stop himself from making love to Violet right where they stood. He cupped her derriere in both palms and dragged her nearer, grinding himself harder against her, mindless now of the blackbirds and the fallen oak leaves and the steely gray sky.

“Please, Violet,” he urged. “Don’t say no.”

“I won’t.” She panted, clenching her fists against his shirt. “I can’t.” She shook her head, even as he kissed her neck, her cheek, her jaw...her mouth. “But I can say...later.
Later
, I promise.” With an obvious effort, Violet pulled away from him. Regretfully, she straightened her skirts. Her mouth looked full and luscious, her hair beginning to fall from its twisted knot. Heedless of her own disarray, she smoothed Cade’s clothes again. “You’re too good a charmer, Cade. You can charm even yourself.”

He blinked. That sounded like nonsense to him. “So?”

“So you really need to get to the blacksmith’s shop.” Violet tucked her fingers in his vest pocket. She withdrew his gold Jürgensen timepiece, then squinted at it. “If you don’t go now, you’ll be late. I built in some dallying time—”

“You accounted for my wanting to seduce you outdoors?”

“—but that’s almost gone now.” Smartly, Violet tucked his watch in its place, oblivious to his incredulous look. “You don’t want to make a poor impression by being late, do you?”