Promises Linger (Promise Series) (24 page)

She shook her head, another thrill chased through her at the concern in his voice. It was unusual having someone care about her. “I brought you lunch.”

His face creased into a smile. “That’s a nice surprise.” He turned toward Clint. “Thanks for escorting her up here.”

“No problem.”

“Did you have any trouble?”

“None. You want me to head over and see how the boys are coming with rounding the strays out of the back canyon?”

Shameless sidled alongside Willoughby as Asa answered, “No doubt they’d appreciate the help.”

“Then I’ll be getting over there.” Clint tipped his hat to Elizabeth. “Ma’am.”

She nodded back. “Mr. Clint.”

She felt a disturbance at her side. She looked down. Asa was rummaging through the food basket. She smiled. “If you don’t get your hand out of there, you’re going to mess up lunch.”

“Just thought I’d see what you brought.”

“You weren’t looking forward to hard tack and cheese?”

“I’d get by on it, but it can’t hold a candle to…” He sniffed. “Apple pie?”

“You can smell that over horse and leather?”

His hand settled on her thigh. It was warm and heavy through her skirt. Comforting. His smile was lazy. She couldn’t see his eyes as they were shadowed by the brim of his hat.

He shrugged. “Would I go down in your estimation if I also confess to smelling bread and fried chicken?” She laughed and his hand squeezed her thigh. “Were you planning on keeping me company?”

She couldn’t tell from the tone of his voice whether the question was resentful or hopeful. “I could head back if you’d rather be alone.”

“What man in his right mind would pass up the opportunity to dine with a beautiful woman?”

She felt the blush rise to her cheeks. Sometimes, she actually felt like he thought her beautiful and wasn’t just playing with words.

“I passed a little meadow on the way here,” he continued, obviously taking her blush for acceptance. “It sits down a bit, so we’d be protected from the wind.”

He removed his hand from her thigh. She missed the contact immediately. Lord! The man was the most touching person she’d ever met and, what was worse, she was getting used to it.

She motioned with her hand. “Lead on.”

He caught her hand midway. Shameless hugged Willoughby’s side tightly as they rode, Asa’s leg continually brushed hers. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, bringing to mind the previous time they’d fluttered. In the barn. She needed to break the tension before she did something embarrassing.

“Why do you have Clint spying on me?”

If she wasn’t mistaken, the hand on hers tightened briefly before he answered. “He’s not spying on you. He’s taking care of you.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself for many years now.”

He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss across the back. The butterflies in her stomach took flight. She couldn’t suppress a gasp. She dared a look at him. He pushed his hat back. The smile on his lips left her in no doubt that he’d heard. “I take care of my own, Elizabeth.”

“I’m not a child who needs to be watched.”

“You’re my wife and I have a duty to protect you.”

“From what?”

“Outlaws. Indians. Wild animals. Jack Hennessy.”

She had no trouble meeting his gaze now. He was obviously serious.

“There haven’t been any outlaws around here in ages. The Indians have all been driven away, and I have yet to run afoul of a wild animal.”

“Elizabeth, you’re acting like I’ve been unreasonable.”

“I don’t like being watched.”

“That’s too damned bad. Either you stick by your escort or you don’t go out.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” She bit her lip. He could and they both knew it. All he had to do was order her to stay home, and her world would dwindle to the walls of the ranch house. No more riding. “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, but with the railroad coming, there’s a rough crowd passing through Cheyenne. There’re also those rustlers you had trouble with. With one source of money cut off, they could turn to others.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“If I thought you’d have the good sense to scare, I sure enough would be.”

“There is nothing wrong with my sense.”

“Sure enough, darlin’, you’re a poor judge of people.”

“I chose you, didn’t I?”

“Nope.”

The smug smile on his lips clued her in. “Darn it! Old Sam told you, didn’t he?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“That rotten skunk. He promised he’d keep the fact I’d asked between us.”

“How do you know he didn’t?”

“The way you’re smiling at me, as if you’re the only cat in the barn that’s got cream.”

He chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to work on my poker face.”

If he did, she was down and out for sure. Willoughby slipped on the way down the slope. She shifted back to accommodate his descent. Shameless stepped aside to avoid a tree. Asa didn’t let go of her hand until the last moment. Just when she was sure they were going to end up hugging the big spruce, he let go.

She knew he’d be smiling when she caught up to him. Nothing seemed to panic him while he took endless delight in tormenting her. He was like the wind, blowing hard or whispering in soft teases. Never from one moment to the next could she say what he’d do. He kept her guessing. He kept her…smiling.

She watched the smooth way he dismounted. The muscles in his back stretched his shirt tightly across his shoulders. He was all man. Well-muscled, honorable, with enough punch to his name to make men clear out of his path, and yet, he seemed to look for laughter the way her father had searched for flaws. She shook her head. She didn’t know which she preferred. One was familiar. The other intriguingly different.

She hadn’t admired much in her father with the exception of his devotion to purpose. She admired a lot in Asa. Mostly his ease with everything he faced. Like now. She’d been staring at him unknowingly for the last three minutes. No doubt he felt uncomfortable, but rather than squirm, he simply stood there and waited her out. No censure. No impatient “let’s get going”. Just acceptance that she needed a minute.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

He held up his arms to help her down. “No harm done.”

“It was rude.”

“Not as long as you didn’t uncover any warts.”

“What?”

“I said I didn’t mind as long as you didn’t find anything you want removed.”

“You have to know you’re a very attractive man.”

“I haven’t had many kids run screaming,” he admitted as he swung her down. “But this face has seen better days.”

Could he be uncertain about his appearance? There was a bump on his nose that said maybe it had been broken. A small scar bisected his right cheekbone.

“You’re staring again.” He caught Willoughby’s reins in his hand. “Picking out the flaws?”

He said that as if he’d been through this before. She wondered if he’d been rejected. “I like your face.” It came out fiercer than she’d expected.

He turned and smiled at her from where he was tying Willoughby beside Shameless to a fallen log. “I like yours, too.”

“You’re very handsome.”

She said that as if it mattered. Asa wondered if she thought he was worried about his looks. He patted Willoughby on the neck, gave Shameless an affectionate pat, and headed back to his wife. There she stood, her fists balled at her sides. He realized she thought his feelings were hurt and she was ready to defend him. He stopped when he was two feet away from her. “I’m glad you like my face.”

“I don’t want you to think I’d rather have a smooth-faced boy for a husband. Someone who didn’t know how to handle himself in a fight. Someone who didn’t have a broken nose and a scarred cheek.”

He caught her hands in one of his. “I don’t think my pride can take any more of my flaws trotted out.”

“Dear God!” Her eyes widened with dismay. “I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious.”

“Relax.” He kissed the tip of her nose, laughing when her eyes crossed. “Do you like the way I look?”

“I just said so.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

She stepped back, freeing her hands. She took the food basket from him. “I really made a mess of that.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, ambling along beside her. “Depends on what side of the glass you’re looking from.”

“Why?”

“A man likes to know his woman isn’t battling an urge to run screaming when he steps into the light.”

His reward was a shy chuckle. He pulled her up short when she showed every intention of crossing the glade and heading into the woods beyond. “I thought here would be a good place.”

“Oh?” She stopped, blushed a bit, and nodded her head. “Yes, it would.”

She was clearly flustered.

Asa took it as a good sign. Maybe all the restraint he’d been practicing for the last week was coming ‘round to reward him. She was beginning to trust him. He’d been heading home today at lunch. Wanting to see her too much to stay away like he’d planned, then he’d seen her riding toward him with Clint. About made his day. She’d actually sought his company. And managed a compliment in the bargain. Yup. Things were definitely looking up.

She spread the blanket on the mossy ground. Overhead, spruce boughs gave a fragrant canopy. If it weren’t this cool, it’d be a darn sticky place to eat lunch, but this time of year, it provided an intimate haven from the wind and prying eyes. A haven he was intent on using to his advantage. Truth was, he was about starved for a kiss. Not one of those uptight come-around-to-my-way-of-thinking attempts he’d utilized before, but an actual kiss with interest on both sides. That was something he was looking forward to all right.

Before he sat beside her on the blanket, he twitched a stick from beneath it. If dessert went the way he planned, he didn’t want any rude intrusions. “Looks like quite a spread.”

“A man your size needs to eat.”

She looked him up and down and added another piece of golden fried chicken to his plate before passing it over. He placed it on the ground beside him. “Trying to fatten me up?”

“You could use a little weight.”

“You’re welcome to try, but I gotta warn you, I’ve always been lean.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“It is?”

She smiled and daintily made a plate for herself. “That means I won’t have to spend time this winter letting out your pants.”

He laughed, eyed the ladylike amount of food on the plate she put beside her, and shook his head. Couldn’t keep a bird alive with that piddlin’ amount. “Lord, darlin’, there’s hope for you yet.”

“There is?”

“Yup.” He snagged another piece of chicken and added it to her plate. “You made a joke.”

“I wasn’t aware you felt I lacked a sense of humor.” She placed the added chicken back in the basket.

“Oh, I had my suspicions.” He took a leg off his plate and added it to hers. “I was just beginning to doubt you’d loosen up enough around me to let it shine.”

“What a colorful way to put it.” She reached for the piece of chicken.

“That’s me. All color. No refinement.” He let her get the piece halfway back to his plate before he shook his head.

“No?” Her tone went all prissy.

He edged her hand back until it hovered over her plate. “There isn’t enough food on that plate to keep a gnat alive.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” If, by fine, she meant ready to drop at the first sign of exertion.

“Mr. MacIntyre, a lady does not bring an appetite to the table.”

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. “What does she bring?”

“Refined conversation, companionship and manners.”

“How about you drop the first and last and bring a healthy appetite instead?”

“That wouldn’t be proper.”

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. Again. He’d never heard such horse hockey in his life as Elizabeth spouted as gospel. “Well, I guess that explains it then.”

Her eyebrows arched quizzically. She took a nibble of her chicken. “Explains what?”

“Why you don’t see too many ladies hereabouts.” He waited until her mouth was full of drink before he continued. “No doubt, they all passed out mid-lecture on a ridiculous rule some poor girl was expected to follow next.”

Lemonade spewed all over the blanket as she laughed and choked at the same time. Only quick reflexes kept him free of the spray. Equally quick reflexes scooped her into his arms and pounded her on the back. The first slap might have been a bit hefty as she flipped half over his arm. Darn. He kept forgetting how slight she was. As soon as she caught her breath, she was back to lecturing him.

“You, Mr. MacIntyre, are a miscreant of the first water.”

He tipped up her chin so he could see her red-cheeked face. “You insulting me or complimenting me?”

“All books on proper behavior insist that I should be insulting you. At the very least, taking you to task for your disrespect.”