Rose (14 page)

Her mouth suddenly went dry, and Rosa licked her lips.

His voice was even softer now, huskier. He seemed a part of the shadows that snaked and twisted on the wall as the flame wavered on the slight evening breeze. “What would you do then, Rose? And if one of them decided to kiss you?” He put his hands on her again. “Pull you to him like this?”

He expected her to fight, but a gentle tug was all it took to bring her up against him. She was no longer staring into the depths of his eyes, but at the full lips so near her own. He smelled of dust and heat and leather. Her body acted on its own, and she raised herself up on tiptoe until their lips met.

If he was surprised by her spontaneous move, he did not show it as he pulled her against his hard length. One warm palm rested at the vulnerable point at the back of her neck while the other easily found a resting place at her waist. The towel, which she still clutched in her fingertips, was trapped between them, but it did not prevent Rosa from feeling the sharp pointed tin star he wore on his shirtfront press into the tender skin of her breast.

She was expecting a warm, undemanding kiss. The kind she had shared with Giovanni. Instead, Kase Storm’s mouth swooped down to cover hers with a vengeance. His kiss was hard and demanding, unlike anything she had ever known or imagined. The pressure of his lips forced hers to part. His irreverent tongue teased the outline of her mouth for the slightest moment before it slipped inside, warming her to her toes as it explored, caressed, and tempted her to respond. Rosa was startled for a moment, afraid that this giant of a man was beyond her control. Frightened by the power of his kiss as well as her own startling reaction to it, Rosa sought to turn her head and draw her lips away. She was surprised when he easily complied and broke off just as suddenly as he had begun.

Releasing her abruptly, Kase stepped away. He had not expected her to allow him such liberties. Nor had he expected to be moved by her response. Rose had been frightened, but not enough to fight him. Had she been stunned into acquiescence, or was she so pliable out of mere curiosity? Whatever the reason, it seemed his crude attempt to persuade her to leave had backfired. He was the one shaken by the exchange.

Rosa was aware only of the swift beating of her heart, the mingled sounds of their uneven breathing, and his cold, assessing stare.

He reached for the top button of her camisole top. Rosa was not certain, but she thought she saw his fingers tremble slightly as he slipped the first, the second, and then the third button through the corresponding buttonholes. Then Kase Storm cleared his throat and straightened his already perfectly centered hat. “From now on, I suggest you keep that door locked.”

As he left the room and silently closed the door, Rosa stood motionless and stared after him. The moment he was gone, she knew that she need not fear any strangers outside the unlocked door. No cowboy drifter could cause her any more shame than she had already brought upon herself by allowing Kase Storm to kiss her. With trembling fingertips, Rosa touched her lips. They still tingled from the pressure of his kiss. Was she no better than the women down the street? How could she have tarnished Giovanni’s memory here in his very own store? Her reaction to the marshal’s kiss frightened her more than the fact that he had kissed her. After all, what was the man to do when she’d practically thrown herself into his embrace?

She knew Kase Storm had only come to warn her, perhaps even frighten her into leaving town. Rosa shook her head, still clutching the towel to her breasts. If he meant to scare her, he had succeeded. But she was not afraid of him.

It was the wild, erratic beat of her heart and the warm arousal she had experienced in his arms that had scared her the most.

Alerted by the sound of revelry in the Ruffled Gaiter, Kase paused outside for a moment before he stepped through the swinging doors of the saloon. A few cowboys from Rawlins’s Mountain Shadows Ranch were scattered about the room, some engaged in card games while others bellied up to the bar. In a far corner, Zach shared a table with Flossie and her girls. Intent on gnawing at a chicken leg, he glanced up as Kase crossed the room, then concentrated on his food once again.

“Hi, Kase. Pull up a chair and have some chicken. Zach brought you a plateful.” Flossie scooted her chair aside to make room for him between herself and Chicago Sue.

Kase grabbed a chair from a nearby table and joined the group. Young Chicago Sue gave him a shy glance and a throaty “Hiya, Kase,” as she handed him the plate of fried chicken, biscuits, and gravy that Zach pushed across the table.

Mira leaned back in her chair and took a long swallow of beer, then tossed her loose mane of riotous brown hair away from her face. “If you all don’t mind, I’m gonna go back to the house and freshen up for tonight.” She gave Kase a pouty, sensual smile and a look of open invitation before she stood and left the table.

Felicity, shortest of the four girls, a beauty with skin the color of a creamy white lily and bouncing hair as black as midnight, shook her head, disgusted by Mira’s obvious advance.

Satin, with ruddy pink cheeks and a jovial smile that danced on her lips and lit her sparkling blue eyes, giggled. She returned her concentration to her dinner. Her plump frame attested to the fact that she, unlike everyone else in town, enjoyed Bertha Matheson’s cooking. Kase thought the girl looked more like a milkmaid than a whore, but then all of Flossie’s girls—except Mira—looked as if they belonged in a schoolroom.

“I thought you were going to eat at Bertha’s, Zach,” Kase said as he reached for a golden brown chicken thigh.

Before Zach could respond, Flossie explained. “This sweet man here was ordering your dinner when Chicago and I went to collect ours. Why, do you know, Kase, when I mentioned to Zach that I’m good enough to buy chicken from Bertha but that she don’t consider me good enough to eat at her boardin’house, why, he up and brought his dinner over here so he could eat with us?”

Kase glanced across the table at Zach. The scout was inordinately preoccupied with his meal. “He’s a real knight in shining armor,” Kase said.

“Speakin’ of knights in shining armor,” Zach shot back, “what’s the widow woman up to?”

“That Italian girl?” Felicity asked. “I’m dying to see her.”

Floss nodded. “She’s a beauty. Don’t you think so, Kase?”

“I saw her. She came over today—” Chicago Sue began, but Flossie cut her off with a quick shake of her head.

“Hell if I know what she’s going to do,” Kase said, answering Zach while ignoring Flossie’s obvious attempt to get him to comment on Rosa’s looks.

Zach dipped a biscuit into his gravy. “Didn’t you find out anything?”

“No.”

“Zach here tried to get me to bet two bits that you’d have her talked into leavin’ town tomorrow,” Flossie said between bites.

Kase frowned. Since when was any of mis their business?

“Shoot, you was gone long enough.” Zach bit into the biscuit and then tried to tear at it with his teeth. “Damn!”

Satin began giggling again, her round cheeks pinkening as she watched Zach’s antics.

“Watch it,” Paddie called out from behind the bar. “A fella was damn near killed in here one night when Mira threw one of Bertha’s biscuits at him!”

Kase listened to the laughter that filled the room and smiled, but held back from entering the round of easy banter that followed. With his thoughts centered on the building next door, he failed to notice the knowing looks that passed between Floss and Zach. Try as he might, he could not dismiss the memory of Rose Audi, half dressed and doe eyed, as she clutched her damp chemise to her breasts.

He had not meant to enjoy kissing her. It was the furthest thing from his mind when he entered the near empty store, but when she brushed aside the stray lock of hair and looked up at him, wide-eyed and trembling, he could not help but step closer. Her soft, pale skin, cast in golden candlelight, had begged to be touched. Once his fingertips connected with her warm flesh, he felt as if he had been jolted by lightning. But when he pulled her closer, when she raised herself up to meet his lips instead of pushing him away...

Kase shifted uncomfortably in his chair and tried to forget the way she’d felt in his arms. He had an idea it would be just as difficult as ignoring the insistent ache in his loins. It wouldn’t do to let his thoughts keep riding roughshod down the trail they were taking. Not at all. Not here in public.

Let her sleep there all alone tonight, he thought. The place was dismal enough in the daytime, but in the dim light, the dark, empty corners would soon close in on her. He silently bet himself she would move out in the morning without any coaxing at all.

Zetta’s rooster woke Rosa at dawn. The morning passed all too quickly as she continued her cleaning assault on the empty store. At noon, she washed and changed into her black traveling dress and prepared to visit Al-Ray’s general store. She decided to forgo wearing the velvet hat, afraid that trying to keep it anchored on her head while carrying a basket of groceries might prove too complicated a task. She straightened the overlarge gown once more, picked up her reticule and empty basket, and opened the front door.

Kase Storm blocked her exit.

The man seemed to fill the doorway, his powerful build and height overwhelming her once again. Rosa stepped back and tried to speak but was at a loss for words. She realized she was thinking in Italian again and fought for command of the English she knew. For some reason, Kase Storm drove all rational thought from her mind.

He folded his arms across his chest and appeared all too smug as he said, “Leaving?”

She paused for a moment while she collected her thoughts. “Yes. To the store.”

“Oh.”

Rosa wondered if his shuttered expression hid disappointment or relief.

“Mind if I walk with you?”

A sudden picture of herself half dressed and leaning into his embrace flashed through her mind. She stared at the badge on his striped shirtfront, traced the line of buttons up to his white collar, and then tried to see around him to the street beyond.
“Va bene.”
She nodded.

They walked in silence, Kase matching his long stride to her short quick one. They stepped off the boardwalk and crossed the street. They were on the other side before Kase spoke.

“What are you planning to do?”

“I will open a place to sell vittles. A café. A
ristorante.
”

“Why?”

She shrugged and finally looked up at him. “Because there is no good food here. I can cook.” She held her hands wide, unmindful of the basket, and shrugged again. “Why not?” Rosa stepped up on the boardwalk. “

Kase stood his ground in the street. They were nearly eye to eye. “I’m not going to be responsible for you if you stay.”

“Responsible?” The word was new to her.

“Yeah. I’m not going to worry about you or watch out for you—any more than I do for anyone else in this town.”

“And why should you do this for me, Marshal?”

“Just in case you had any notions after last night—”

“I think maybe we forget last night.” Rosa felt her cheeks burning: She turned away, set on escaping Marshal Kase Storm.

He reached out and grabbed her arm. Rosa glanced in both directions before she turned around to face him again.

“Why don’t you just leave town?” he persisted.

Her reserve snapped.
“Dio!
Why? I tell you why.” She set the basket on the walk beside her and planted one fist on her hip. Rosa held up her other hand and, thumb first, began to count off the reasons for him. “My brother, he say I’ll be back, so I’m not go back.
You
keep say I must go back. Signora Flossie say I can cook and make money here. Giovanni choose this place for me—” she raised her voice to emphasize her determination and opened both arms wide, appealing to him as she made her final argument—“and I want stay!”

At the end of her tirade, she calmed enough to notice that a stony silence was his only response.

Speak in a low voice.

Do not yell or wave your hands about.

Do not get excited in your discussions.

Dio!
She realized every time she saw this man she broke the rules in the
Guide for Italian Immigrants.
Chagrined, Rosa reached down for her basket and in a more subdued tone informed him, “So that is why I stay. Sho’ nuf.”

She heard him sigh. It was the long, slow sigh of a man who had reached the end of his patience. Rosa waited to see what Kase would say. When he finally spoke, his voice was so low she barely heard the words he uttered.

“This isn’t the kind of place where you’re likely to find another husband.”

Confused, Rosa feared she had mistranslated his words.
“Scusi?”
The boldface words of the immigrant’s guide flashed before her eyes: “Beware of strange men offering proposals of marriage.”

“A woman can live here without marry, yes?”

“Look.” He pushed his hat back off his forehead and frowned. “Of course. But will you be content living alone forever?” He thought of the kiss they had shared. She was sensual, vibrant, a woman with plenty of love to give the right man. “The only candidates you’ll find around here are no-account drifters who haven’t the slightest intention of taking up with a decent woman.”

“And you?” she threw back at him.

“I don’t count.”

“No?”

“No. Most definitely not.”

“Because you hate Italians? You are too good for me?”

Was she so naive that she did not think the color of his skin mattered? “I’m afraid you’ve got that backwards.”

“Then it is because you think so little of yourself?”

Frustrated, Kase glared at her. “Look, Rose, I’m trying to tell you that for your own good you need to be wary. If you’re so set on staying, just don’t take up with the first man who comes along.”

She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “In Italy,” she began, “the man visits the woman, brings flowers, meets the family of the woman. In Italy”—Rosa drew herself up as far as her diminutive height would allow and straightened her shoulders—“a man asks to marry when he is in love. It must be proper, correct. The flowers, the family. I’m not marry anybody I’m not knowing, or a man who does not know such things. And
I’m not leave here.
”