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Authors: Parting Gifts

Lorraine Heath (16 page)

BOOK: Lorraine Heath
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“I think you should. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She scrambled out of bed, thrust her arms into her wrapper, and tied it tightly around her waist. Her bare feet padded across the floor.

Like an old man who hears Death’s whisper, Jesse eased himself into the chair. Resting his elbows on the table, he wondered how he was going to get himself to bed. He decided he’d probably just sleep right where he was.

Damn Maddie for being right. He’d only ridden halfway to Austin before he’d told Carter he was going to have to head back. Carter had told him to ride inside the coach until they got to Austin, but Jesse had begun to think he was going to die up there, and if he was going to die, it was going to be at home.

“Oh, look at you!”

He lifted the leaden ball he called a head and looked at the woman rushing into the room. She placed a cool hand on his cheek.

“You’re all warm and clammy. Did you start bleeding?”

“No, just tired.”

“Are you hungry?”

He nodded, and she moved away, leaving him wishing he’d denied being hungry. Reaching out, he increased the flame in the lamp so he could see her more clearly. He’d never returned home and had a woman fuss over him.

She slammed a pot onto the stove, its metallic clank resounding throughout the room. “I don’t like wasting my time and energy.”

He grimaced as she banged another pot.

“You ride out of here without even caring that all my hard work might have gone to waste.” She spun around and planted her hands on her hips. “Next time, you can just bleed to death.”

As she marched past him, he grabbed her swinging arm and groaned as her movements jerked him. She stopped and knelt beside him.

“You did start bleeding.”

He shook his head. “Don’t think so. Just don’t be mad at me tonight.”

She moved the lamp to the edge of the table, then gingerly eased his shirt out of his pants and lifted it. She pressed her fingers to the still white bandages and felt him tense.

“Just tender,” he forced out.

With tears brimming in her eyes, she lifted her gaze to his. “You don’t have to be everyone’s big brother. Why can’t you be content just to be Charles’s brother?”

He brushed his knuckles along her cheek, capturing a fallen tear. “This time, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She laid her forehead against his thigh, the sobs causing her narrow shoulders to quake. Dropping his hand, he gently rubbed her back. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I can’t help the way I am.”

“You could try,” she said, her voice muffled against his leg.

“I can’t look the other way when a wrong is being done.”

She lifted her gaze. “But it wasn’t being done to you.”

“Makes no difference. A wrong is wrong.”

“And there are no exceptions for you, are there?”

Her eyes were a well of sadness, and he somehow knew her question was of monumental importance, and that the moments when he enjoyed her company would be no more if he answered wrong. “I’ve never looked the other way when a wrong was done another.”

Her eyes drifted closed, and he had a sinking feeling in his gut that he’d given the wrong answer. Footsteps sounded throughout the house, and then Charles walked into the kitchen. Standing, Maddie walked away from Jesse and arranged pots and pans more quietly as she began to warm some chipped beef for him. Charles placed his hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was standing in the middle of a stampede. I just left Midnight out there. I planned to get to him once I’d rested.”

“I’ll take care of him.” Charles headed for the door.

“Give him some extra oats, will you? He earned them.”

“Will do.” Charles closed the door quietly behind him.

Jesse watched Maddie moving solemnly, wordlessly around the kitchen. He had a strong urge to put his arms around her and apologize for something, for anything. He placed his hand over his thigh. He’d never had a woman cry over him. Cry because of him, but not cry over him. Something in his chest had constricted when he’d felt her tears seep through the wool of his pants.

He almost wished he had been able to answer her question differently.

13

The sultry night air clung to Jesse as he walked away from the creek. His strength was returning and his side had lost most of its tenderness. He’d been able to haul the tub into the kitchen earlier and prepare a bath for Maddie. Slowing his steps, he only hoped he’d stayed away long enough.

With a leisurely gait, he approached the backyard. The house was wrapped in night shadows. He glanced toward the barn and saw a pale light spilling out through a narrow opening in the door.

Stealthily, he crept across the yard and peered into the barn. He saw shadows dance eerily against a far wall. Then Maddie came into view, stretching up on her bare toes, her fingers reaching toward the rafters, her body swaying from side to side.

She twirled and her blue calico dress lifted to reveal her bare calves. She dipped down and her braided hair fell over her shoulder. Then she dropped to her knees, and Ranger bounded across the floor, landing in her lap, nose down, tail up. She picked him up and rubbed her cheek against his neck. “Oh, Ranger, do you think he’ll know that I’ve never danced before?”

The door creaked as Jesse opened it and walked into the barn. Maddie twisted around, hugging Ranger to her until he yelped. She released him, and he scampered back into a stall.

Jesse hunkered before her. She was bathed in the yellow light of a solitary lantern hanging from a peg in a beam. Damp tendrils of her hair kissed her cheeks. The fragrance of forget-me-nots wafted around her.

“Where’s Charles?” he asked.

“He fell asleep while I was bathing.”

Jesse sat and draped his arm over his raised knee. “Why didn’t you tell him you’ve never danced?”

She glanced at her hands folded in her lap. “I don’t know. Sometimes I get tired of feeling so different.” She lifted her gaze to his. “These people have all had such normal lives, the kind of life I’ve always wanted.”

“In what way?”

She lifted her shoulder slightly. “They’ve had so many people surrounding them. They’ve had friends to share their joys and sorrows with. They’ve never been alone.”

“And you’ve been alone too often.”

“I’ve never had a friend. When the people were here before, I noticed some of the women whispering to each other, sharing secrets. I’ve never had a friend to share secrets with.” She felt his gaze filled with understanding fall upon her as though it was a caress. Although he was the last person in the world with whom she should share any confidences, she was surprised to discover that he was the only person she wanted to share anything with.

“What secrets would you share?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” She waved a hand helplessly in the air. “Little things like I don’t know how to dance. Nothing important.”

He stood and held his hand out to her. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere. I’m going to teach you to dance.”

Her heart raced. She thought dancing with Jesse would feel as intimate as a kiss, and it was an intimacy she dared not feel. “Oh, that’s not necessary.”

“Thought you wanted to make Charles happy.”

“I do.”

“Well, there’s nothing he enjoys more than he enjoys dancing, and I imagine tomorrow night, he’s going to want to dance with his wife.”

Reluctantly, she stood. He placed his hand on her waist and felt her stiffen. “You need to relax. People touch when they dance.” He placed her limp hand on his shoulder and took her other one in his. Her eyes were riveted to the ground. “Don’t watch my feet.”

“How will I know what to do?”

“You’ll feel the movements. Just follow them, but you’ll have to lift your eyes first. I can’t start while you’re watching the ground.”

She lifted her gaze to the center of his chest. He stepped back. “Come on.”

Awkwardly, she stepped forward, then pulled herself free, folding her arms beneath her breasts. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re so judgmental.”

“All right, then, let’s try this another way. Close your eyes and pretend I’m Charles.” “Why?”

“Because you’re comfortable with him. Close your eyes and pretend I’m him, or I’ll go wake him and tell him to get down here and teach his wife how to dance.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

He smiled. “Yep.”

“Oh, all right.” She moved back into place.

“Now, close your eyes.”

She widened them.

He sighed. “Trust me. Just this once.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Just remember, I can open them anytime I want to.”

He placed her hand back on his shoulder, wrapped one hand around her free hand, and settled his other hand on her waist. “Now, pretend I’m Charles.”

“Your hands are too rough.”

“Pretend they’re not. Imagine that I look kind and compassionate instead of like something that’s ridden out of hell.”

Her eyes flew open, capturing the solemnity in his face. “That is what you think, isn’t it?” he asked. “I’ve had more than one desperado describe me in those terms.”

“I imagine they’d think that with you following their trail, but you’re not following my trail, are you?”

“No, I’m not. Now, close your eyes and pretend I’m your husband.”

She closed her eyes. Imagining he was her husband was somewhat different from imagining he was Charles. She didn’t have to pretend his hands weren’t rough or that she had to reach a little higher to place her hand on his shoulder. The only thing she had to pretend was that if he knew the truth, he’d still want to be her husband. She heard a horse nicker in a distant stall, heard a barn owl swoop down from the rafters. Then she heard a soft humming. “What’s that?” she asked, quietly.

“ ‘Nobody’s Darling.’ It’s a favorite of mine.”

“It’s lovely.”

“Concentrate on the melody and when I move, follow.”

He went back to humming. When her mind was filled with nothing but the resonant timbre of the music he created, she felt him take a gentle step back. To her surprise, she followed as though she’d been placing her foot where his had been for most of her life.

Ever so slowly, she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze to his, wanting to swim within the black depths of his eyes.

A smile eased onto his face. “That’s it. A man likes to look into the eyes of the woman he’s dancing with. This is a waltz.”

“I like it.”

“I thought you would.”

She was mesmerized by the deep resonance of his voice, could almost hear the gentle strains of a violin. It seemed as though they were merely swaying on the breeze like the petals of a dandelion blown free with the breath of a child.

“Breathe, Whiskey. You don’t want to swoon when Charles is dancing with you tomorrow night.”

“How can you think of all the things you have to do at once: move your feet, listen to the music, breathe?”

“I’m only thinking about one thing,” he said quietly as his eyes delved deeply into hers.

“Mind if I have a turn?” Charles asked.

“Christ Almighty!” Jesse roared as he jumped away from her.

Maddie staggered back before catching her balance. And she was breathing now, breathing hard.

Jesse plowed his hands through his hair. “Scared the living hell out of me!”

Charles laughed. “Yeah, I thought I might.”

“You’re damn lucky I didn’t have a gun strapped to my thigh. Jesus! You ought to give a man some warning.”

“But this was so much more fun. You two often waltz in the barn after midnight?”

“She doesn’t know how to dance. I was just teaching her.”

Charles quirked a brow. “Oh?”

“Don’t ‘oh?’ me. You keep saying you know so much about her. Then you should have known she doesn’t know how to dance, and you should have taken the time to teach her so she wouldn’t feel out of place tomorrow night. Before I got here, she was taking lessons from the damn dog!”

“Well, maybe I should finish the lessons.”

“Yeah, maybe you better.” Without a backward glance at Maddie, Jesse stormed out of the barn.

Charles glanced at Maddie. “I guess that was rude of me to interrupt.”

“Honestly, he was just teaching me to dance.”

“I know.”

He took her in his arms and guided her through the steps. His hands weren’t rough and his eyes weren’t black. The melodic strains of a violin didn’t drift into her mind. She didn’t feel as though she was floating on the wind.

But he was her husband. She lifted her gaze to his, returned his smile, and followed his movements as she planned to for the remainder of her life.

The sun sank slowly beyond the horizon, creating a subdued haze of late summer colors across an azure sky, taking with it some of the stifling heat that had hung over the day.

The wagon creaked as it rolled along the dirt road. A wheel dipped into a shallow rut. The children in the back of the wagon squealed, Charles laughed, and Maddie toppled against Jesse’s side as she sat beside him on the bench seat. He steadied her with one hand and helped her regain some of her dignity. Once righted, she smoothed out her skirt, then glanced over her shoulder at the family riding along in the back of the wagon. Her family.

She’d wanted to ride in the back with them, but Charles had insisted she ride on the bench seat so she wouldn’t muss her dress. She was wearing the same emerald green dress she’d worn the night she’d first met their friends and neighbors. She didn’t understand why Jesse was guiding the team of horses, why she was forced to sit by his side. Each time the motion of the wagon caused her to brush against him, she wished more fervently that she was sitting with the children.

“Did Charles teach you the quadrille?” Jesse asked, his eyes focused straight ahead.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “He taught me several different ways to dance.” But the waltz was her favorite, would always be her favorite.

He nodded. “Imagine he’ll keep you busy most of the night.”

“Do you enjoy dancing or were you just being kind last night?”

“Whether or not I enjoy it depends on who I’m dancing with.”

In the back of the wagon, Aaron stood and leaned against Jesse’s back. “You gonna dance with the widow Parker?”

Jesse threw a glance over his shoulder. “Reckon I might.”

Maddie felt an unexpected twinge of disappointment at his answer and realized she would no doubt see him dancing with several women throughout the evening.

“You ain’t gonna marry her, are you?” Aaron asked.

Using his thumb, Jesse tipped his hat off his brow and studied the sky as though seriously contemplating his answer. A small smile eased across his face, and he glanced back at Aaron. “Reckon I might.”

Maddie felt her heart plummet. She knew she had no reason, no right to care what his answer had been. Yet she had cared, and the depth of her disappointment in his answer frightened her. She had a husband. There was no reason Jesse shouldn’t have a wife.

Aaron howled. “But she looks like a bullfrog! Sounds like one, too!”

Charles patted Aaron’s backside. “Aaron Lawson, don’t speak unkindly of people.”

“But it’s true!” He reached around, placed his palm against Jesse’s cheek, and turned his head until their gazes could meet squarely. “You won’t marry her, will you?”

Jesse licked his lips and winked. “She makes an awful good sponge cake.”

“So does Ma. You could marry Ma if you’ve got a hankering to marry someone.”

Jesse’s gaze clashed with Maddie’s. Her face took on a hue more lovely than that of the sunset. “She’s already married,” he said quietly, turning his attention back to the road, wishing to God Charles would pull Aaron down and tell him to be quiet.

“But you like her well enough, don’t you?” Aaron asked.

“I like her just fine.”

“Then you ought to marry her.”

“A woman can only have one husband, and Maddie’s got your pa.”

“Well, that don’t hardly seem fair. What if a woman likes more than one man?”

Jesse clenched his jaws. His head would be hurting by the time they arrived at the Turners’ place if this line of questioning continued. “It takes more than liking a person. Generally, people get married because they love each other.”

“Don’t you love Ma?”

Jesse came halfway off the bench seat, twisted his body, and glared at Charles. “He’s your son. Why the hell aren’t you explaining all this to him?”

Fighting back his smile, Charles shrugged slightly. “Thought you were explaining it well enough.” He tugged on Aaron’s shirt. “Come on. Sit back down.”

“But he didn’t answer my question.”

“Sometimes it’s best if questions are left unanswered.”

Aaron dropped onto the floorboards and squirmed until he made himself comfortable. “Why’s that?”

“Because then you can spend the evening wondering what the answer was.”

That made no sense to Aaron. If he’d wanted to wonder what the answer was, he wouldn’t have asked the question to begin with.

The widow Parker, Maddie was pleased to discover, did look exactly like a bullfrog. Her skin was weathered, her eyes bulged, and her neck was thick with layers of wrinkles that shook with each of her movements, no matter how slight they might be. She also realized it was kindness that prompted Jesse to ask the woman to dance three times. Her face lit each time he escorted her to the center of the barn. As the widow Parker swayed to the tune of the fiddle, Maddie could almost imagine her as a young woman and could see the inner beauty that had caused Mr. Parker to marry her. She felt her feelings for Jesse expand, for he alone took the time to give back to the aged, lonely woman a moment of her youth.

Within the barn, kerosene lanterns glowed, creating a warm intimacy within the cavernous structure. Feeling more at ease, Maddie walked through the barn, skirting the children playing with the new batch of kittens. She was disappointed that Charles didn’t dance with her as much as Jesse had indicated he would. And quite often, she wished, much to her chagrin, that she looked like a bullfrog so Jesse would ask her to dance.

Jesse studied the whiskey in his glass. The color was perfect. He could almost see her eyes. He downed the amber liquid. He’d never enjoyed a dance or socializing so little in his entire life.

He’d planned to dance with Maddie at least once, but Aaron’s inquisition on the way over had put an end to those intentions. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to his feelings for Maddie. As much as he hated it, his best tactic was to ignore her.

BOOK: Lorraine Heath
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