Lisa Plumley (17 page)

“I’m sure you do.” Blackhouse offered a wide smile. He tucked his invitation card into Cade’s vest pocket anyway, then gave it a pat to secure it. He delivered him a breezy wave. He turned, seeming for all the world to be completely carefree. “Think about my offer. Give me your answer tonight. And bring your paramour with you, why don’t you. I’d love to meet her.”

“She won’t want to meet you.”

“Are you sure about that? She looks friendly.” Blackhouse winked at a surprised-looking Violet. Flirtatiously, he tipped his hat to her. She blushed. “Maybe I’ll invite her myself.”

Cade tightened his grasp on his pitchfork, unhappy with the idea of allowing Blackhouse unfettered access to Violet. There were things Blackhouse knew about him that Violet should not.

Grudgingly, Cade nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Aha. Good!” His benefactor smiled more broadly. “I thought you might find a bit of leeway in your busy schedule. You’ll be glad you did, I promise.” Blackhouse offered another, almost mocking tip of his hat to Cade. “It can’t be all manure shoveling and horse wrangling and shoe dirtying all the time, now, can it? That’s no kind of life for a man like you. Besides, if all goes well, I may have a surprise for you.”

With that cryptic statement, Blackhouse walked off toward a patiently waiting Adams, who stood outside the livery stable with a cigar box, an umbrella and a bulging satchel. Blackhouse passed Owen Cooper and Violet, gave Cade’s beloved a second audacious tip of his hat, then hied off to prepare for his soirée.

Chapter Eleven

F
eeling flustered and eager, Violet hastened from the livery stable doorway to the empty stall where she’d spied Cade.

“Whew!” Energetically, she fanned her face. “I thought I’d never get here to you! First I had to thank Mr. Cooper for providing you with this apprenticeship, of course. Then I had to inquire about his usual helper, Gus, and find out how he’s doing. Then I wanted to talk about Mr. Cooper’s daughter, Élodie, who goes to school with Tobe.” After pausing for a gulp of air, Violet rushed on. “She’s the sweetest little girl—she lost her mother when she was just a baby, poor thing, but everyone in town is helping Mr. Cooper raise her. At least as much as they can, of course.” Confidingly, Violet leaned nearer to a bemused-looking Cade. “Confidentially speaking, Mr. Cooper can be a bit of a lone wolf, I’m afraid. He’s a hard man to help—a bit like
another
rough-and-tumble Western man I know.”

“Hmm,” Cade rumbled. “I can’t imagine who that would be.”

“Oh, me neither!” Violet fibbed with joyful exuberance. She loved teasing Cade. She’d
so
missed seeing him this morning. She’d been too late after all, between fetching Tobe’s coat, meeting the mysterious stranger at the church and speaking with her father, to arrive at the Lorndorff Hotel in time. “All the same, though, I do appreciate Mr. Cooper’s apprenticeship. It looks as though you’re doing wonderfully over here!”

Aiming an admiring glance at Cade’s physique, Violet nodded. She’d appreciated the way he looked in his fancy gambler’s duds, of course—any woman would have—but she thought he looked mighty fine in his workingman’s clothes, too. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, she could glimpse several tantalizing inches of muscular, sun-browned arms. With his shirt partly unbuttoned, she could savor the sight of his tawny throat and intriguing chest hair. With his vest loose, she could see the braces that held up his trousers...and remember herself slipping off those selfsame braces to brazenly help
remove
his trousers. She’d taught herself that particular maneuver just yesterday.

With hardly any provocation at all, Violet sighed dreamily. She sent her gaze roaming over Cade’s personhood all over again.

“I won’t be able to think about working at all,” Cade told her roughly, “if you keep on looking at me that way.”

Another sigh. Daringly, Violet sneaked her fingertip beneath his rightmost brace, testing its strength. If she tugged a bit, it would fall. With another skillful flick of her finger, so would his left brace. After that, with just the merest nudge, so would his trousers. Hmm... “I can’t help it.”

“You seemed to be able to help it a few minutes ago. Then, you only had eyes for Simon Blackhouse.” Cade offered the name as though it were arsenic. “The world’s most famous layabout.”

Violet blinked. “Blackhouse? You were talking with Blackhouse just now?” She’d wondered about that. “Your mentor?”

“My sometime
benefactor
,” Cade clarified, his jaw tight. “And yes—he’s the one you were flirting with a while ago.”

“Flirting?” Filled with disbelief, Violet hooted with laughter. “I wasn’t flirting! I wouldn’t begin to know how. You know me—I’ve been a veritable dormouse all these years.”

Grumbling, Cade said, “You blushed at him.”

“Blushed
at
him?” Growing more amused now, Violet gave his arm a good-natured poke. “Exactly how does one blush ‘at’ someone? Especially me? I don’t possess a single feminine wile that I know of.” When Cade didn’t relent, she sighed. “Honestly, Cade, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

With a powerful, obstinate gesture, Cade crossed his arms. He gazed into the middle distance toward a passing wagon, silently refusing to say more. His profile faced her, all hard and determined...and grouchy. Very, very grouchy.

Realizing the truth at last, Violet boggled.

“You
are
jealous!” she crowed.

“You needn’t sound so all-fired happy about it.”

“Happy? I’m
thrilled
!” Violet admitted unabashedly. “No one has ever been jealous of my affections, Cade. Not ever.”

“They should have been. This town is full of fools.”

“You’re sweet to say so.” She beamed at him. She couldn’t help it.
How
could he possibly be so smitten with her? She’d done nothing at all to deserve him. “I remember when your Mr. Blackhouse tipped his hat at me, of course. It did excite me a little. But only because I’m not used to the attention. Frankly speaking, he
is
quite a handsome man, of course, so anyone—”

“Handsome?” This time it was Cade’s turn to boggle. “You think he’s handsome?” He released an annoyed gust of air, then turned his attention with new zeal toward the street. “I guess some people might think so. If they like the slick type.”

His gruffness was beyond endearing. He
did
care. What’s more, he was obviously unused to caring as much as he did.

“I especially fancy Mr. Blackhouse’s lovely hair,” Violet teased further. “It’s so very blond, with all those gorgeous waves in it.” Unable to resist joshing Cade, she gave a teensy squeal, then clapped her hands together in apparent exaltation. “It makes him look like a sun-kissed angel! Don’t you think so?”

Cade snorted. He shook his own dark, tousled hair, undoubtedly without realizing he did so. “The only thing
less
angelic than Simon Blackhouse is old Beelzebub himself. Don’t be fooled by his stupid hair,” he warned ominously, “or his pretty face or his impeccable manners or his crates full of money—”

“Is this meant to put me off him?” Violet interrupted pertly. “Because you’re making him sound like quite a catch.”

“—or his private luxury train car,” Cade went on relentlessly, “or his valet or his damnable mysterious past—”

“Ooh, how intriguing!” Violet gushed, clasping her hands girlishly. “A mystery man! With his own valet, to boot!”

“—or his constant offers of reckless wagers—”

“Oh! That reminds me!” Violet butted in, forgetting to josh Cade for the moment. “I met someone today, and I think—”

I think he might be the man you’ve been searching for all this time
.

“—because Simon Blackhouse is a damn blackguard, through and through,” Cade growled in a plainly possessive and resolute tone before Violet could tell him her news, “no matter how harmless he might seem. He’s no good for a woman like you.”

With her jaw fully dropped now, Violet stared at him.

“He’s not nearly
good enough
for a woman like you,” Cade continued relentlessly, “and if you can’t see that, well...”

“Well?” Breathlessly, Violet waited. “Well, what?”

“Well...” Exasperatedly, Cade cradled her cheek in his hand. He drank in the sight of her. He drew in a deep breath. He shook his head. Despairingly, he said, “Words aren’t enough.”

“Enough for what?” All of a sudden she was scarcely keeping up with him, Violet realized. Jealousy, it seemed, was a powerfully confusing emotion for all parties concerned. “What are you trying to tell me? What am I supposed to see? Are you—”

Before Violet could finish asking questions, Cade’s mouth was on hers. In the earthy stillness of the livery stable, he kissed her...so expertly, in fact, that Violet forgot all about the dimness and hay and soberly painted wooden stalls. All she could think about were Cade’s lips, soft and insistent on hers, and Cade’s mouth, warm and wet and delectable against hers, and Cade’s hands, steady and arousing against her neck and jaw, and even as she tried to formulate her last, almost-forgotten query—just to assure herself that she could—all Violet could do was grab ahold of Cade’s vest and just hang on. There was something about the way Cade kissed her, with slow, lazy strokes and tiny rousing bites and gentle, soothing glides of his lower lip, that made her entire mind simply shut down to all other sensation.

“You’re supposed to see that
I’m
all you need,” Cade announced when he was through kissing her. “You’re supposed to remember that, now and always, whether I have the words to say so or not.” His gaze remained rapt on her face, his vivid blue eyes dark with passion. “But if you need another demonstration just to set that lesson for certain—”

“I do!” Violet avowed, feeling all aflame. With her last dredges of wit, she added, “You’d better hurry up, too, before I run after Mr. Blackhouse and launch myself a comparison scheme.”

Growling against her hair, Cade gave her neck a tender nip. The combination of his rumbling voice and naughty mouth made shivers race down her spine. Blindly clutching his shoulders, Violet gasped. They were still in the stable, she remembered belatedly, in public, where anyone could see them. This was risky. It was foolhardy. It was—she realized as Cade framed her face in his hands and brought his mouth to hers again—utterly and completely necessary. She’d stop breathing without this.

“
Ahem
,” came a voice from nearby.

Unwilling to acknowledge that intrusion, Violet squeezed her eyes shut a little bit tighter. She went on kissing Cade, telling herself that the sound she’d heard had most assuredly been a snuffling horse or a kicking mule or a distant bit of thunder...never mind that autumn storms were rare in Morrow Creek, and she’d yet to meet the beast of burden who could sound like—

“
Ahem
.” That intrusion came again, more loudly this time.

Oh, no. Possibly it was Owen Cooper. She would ruin Cade’s apprenticeship! Urgently, Violet pulled away. Through her dazed vision, she glimpsed Cade’s face, impassioned and wonderful.

He wore the same expression he always did when he kissed her, which was besotted and determined and arresting in equal measure, and before Violet knew precisely what she was doing, she’d put both palms to the beard-stubbled sides of his jaw and was kissing him again, crowding herself closer and closer...

“You’re going to have to let the man do his work sometime,” someone said from nearby. Very loudly. “Otherwise he won’t be able to repay his gambling debts—especially his debt to
me
.”

With effort, Cade wrested himself from Violet’s embrace. In obvious shock, he stared. “Reverend Benson!”

* * *

“Papa!” Violet gaped, too. For indeed it
was
her father who’d been futilely trying to get her attention for the past few minutes. He stood beside a curt-looking Owen Cooper, both men impatiently waiting for her and Cade to quit spooning in the stable like addle-headed lovebirds.

Too late, Violet recalled that the livery stableman had famously shunned all things frivolous and sinful, from gambling to drinking to carousing with women. Although he was still young and vibrant, widowed Owen Cooper had become the most straitlaced man in Morrow Creek...all for the sake of his little daughter, Élodie. He would not approve of Cade and Violet’s behavior.

Of course, neither would her poor beleaguered father.

Chin held high, Cade stepped up. “This was not Violet’s fault, Reverend Benson.” He put out his palms in an appeal to be heard. “I encouraged her to see me. I took advantage of her naïveté. I know it was wrong, and I’m sorry. But I care about—”

“No! It was me! All me.” Violet crowded aside Cade in her haste to take the blame. Earnestly, she faced her father. “I knew you didn’t want me to see Cade, Papa, but I did it anyway. I did it because he needs me! Because I care about—”

“It was me, sir,” Cade insisted, head bowed. “All me.”

“I won’t have it!” Determinedly, Violet shook her head. “I knew you made that wager with Cade to make him quit seeing me. But I also knew I could help him repay his debt to you, so I set out to help him, and everything just ballooned from there—”

“Only because I allowed it to,” Cade contended with new and convincing forcefulness. “I should have known better, but—”

As he continued, Reverend Benson and Owen Cooper exchanged an inscrutable look. Then Mr. Cooper piped up. “Isn’t anyone going to apologize to
me
? It’s
my
stable you’re besmirching.”

Was that a glimmer of amusement behind his equable facade? Violet wondered. No, it couldn’t be. Not with Owen Cooper.

Instantly, Cade did as the stableman wished. “I’m sorry, Cooper,” he said in a contrite and resolute tone. He frowned. “I never meant for this to happen, especially here. If you want me to leave, I understand. I’ll collect my things and—”

“Of course he won’t want you to leave!” Instantly loyal, Violet shook her head. “You’ve been doing a good job here. Anyone can see that. Mr. Cooper is an understanding man. He—”

At that, Cooper put up his hand, signaling her to stop. Then he
did
grin. He
was
amused! “Enough. I have customers to see to and work to do.” He tipped his hat to the reverend. “I trust you can manage this all on your own, Reverend?”

Gravely, Violet’s father surveyed her and Cade. He gave a solemn nod. “With some prayer and divine guidance...yes, I can.”

Even as she watched Owen Cooper amble away, Violet swallowed hard. Whenever her father decided he needed the help of the Almighty to deal with her, it was not a positive sign.

Seeking assurance—or maybe trying to give away a smidgeon of it—she shuffled closer to Cade. Behind her skirts, she took his hand. She squeezed it. Cade squeezed back, delivering her a world of comfort in that single familiar gesture.

After her father bade goodbye to Mr. Cooper, he turned again to Violet and Cade. His spine was stiff, his face filled with censure, and at the sight of his obvious disappointment, it was all Violet could do not to crumple in dismay herself.

“I never meant to let you down, Papa,” she said.

“I know that, Violet.” Contemplatively, her father examined her and Cade. He took in their close-together posture, their tightly clasped hands...even their heads, automatically tilted to faintly and supportively touch. “I also know that you’re capable of ignoring my wishes if that’s what’s needed to follow your heart. Otherwise, you never would have taken to delivering meals to the prisoners at Sheriff Caffey’s jail, for instance, entirely against my better judgment and my explicitly stated wishes.”