Whispers on the Wind (A Prairie Hearts Novel Book 5) (32 page)

“No. But I’m not surprised if you thought you did. This place is haunted. Always feels like I’m being watched. Have to say, it stands my hair on end.”

She was relieved when Jake’s mother continued with her to the back door. Just as she was about to exit, the woman laid a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Mr. Ling,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m walking Daisy home. I’ll be back directly.”

“You go home, too,” came the reply. “You work enough today.”

Relief eased Daisy’s mind, though she was still disconcerted by what she’d thought she’d seen. Perhaps now she’d have a chance to voice a few of the things she’d been feeling a moment before. For better or for worse, this was Jake’s mother. That alone made her want to heal the wound. Would Jake’s ma be receptive to her? Only one way to find out.

Hunter waited a half hour before he proceeded up the stairs. He wanted to make sure Tabitha was good and asleep. Thinking back, her bed hadn’t been all that large. By the time she added the divider, it would be even worse. At the top of the stairs, he crossed the landing, then paused at Tabitha’s closed bedroom door. Too tired to think much about anything, he quietly stepped inside. A lone candle flickered on his side table and Tabitha had her back to the rolled blanket—blankets!

He smiled, even at a prick of irritation. There was so much about Miss Hoity-Toity that he admired. Her bravery was at the top of the list. Here she was, a twenty-nine-year-old maiden, trusting him to be honorable all night in the same bed as her.

In the cramped quarters, he awkwardly pulled off his left boot while balancing on one foot, and then did the same for the other. He stripped down to his flesh on the upper portion of his body but, to make her more comfortable, left on his pants.

The bed squeaked loudly when he sat on the edge. He swung his legs in. Leaning over to the table, he cupped the flame of the candle, and blew, then settled back on the pillow.

All was good until a gun blast rent the air. Tabitha stirred, half turned on her side and then jerked to a stop as if remembering he was there.

“It’s just the saloon, Tabby,” he whispered. He could tell she was awake. “Nothin’s gonna get ya.”

“I know. Gunshots just make me jumpy. I’ve yet to get used to them.”

Knock knock knock.

Wishing he could transport himself to some lonesome prairie under the stars, he stifled a grumble. “Yes?”

“I think somebody just got shot. Do you think they need a doctor?”

“No, I don’t Mrs. Canterbury. Go back to sleep.”

“How thick are these walls? Can a bullet come through?”

He swung his legs off the mattress and sat on the edge of the bed holding his forehead in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Tabitha whispered. “She’s not used to the noise. Back in New York, our home is in a quiet part of town. Only houses . . .”

“Mr. Wade?”

“A bullet can come through the wall, but before it does, it’d have to pass through the saloon first, and then the sheriff’s office. You’re safe,
Mother
. I assure you, nothing is going to happen to you in your own bed. My bed, actually,” he added under his breath.

A loud indignant sniff sounded on the other side of the door. “If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Now go back to bed before it’s time to get up. My wife and I would like a little privacy.”

“Oh!”

He chuckled and they heard her hurry away. Her door clicked closed. After a moment, he lay back down.

Tabitha lit a candle on her side of the bed. “You do like to scandalize, don’t you?” she said, humor reverberating in her voice. “You’re very naughty.”

“She had it coming.”

Tabitha rolled to her side facing him, a small smile pulling at her lips. He gave her another mental medal for her boldness. Intrigued, he arranged himself in the same position, leveraged up on his elbow, his head resting in the palm of his hand.

They stared at each other for several seconds, the silence heavy on the air.

“You didn’t come up for a long time,” she whispered. “How come?”

“I wanted to give you plenty of time to get settled.”
And fall asleep.

“And fall asleep?”

He narrowed his eyes but that only made her smile grow. “Did you just read my mind?”

She giggled. A sound that he hadn’t yet heard from her. She sounded young, and unencumbered of all the social restrictions that usually weighted her mind. Her loose hair flowed temptingly over her shoulder. Didn’t women usually plait it, or put it up in a cap, or something? It was awfully tempting, reminding him of melted caramel candy right before an apple was dipped. She was under the covers, but a frilly piece of lace poked out around her neck, looking mighty appealing. Her gaze softened. Invited his touch. He reached out.

CHAPTER SIXTY

T
abitha couldn’t believe this was happening. Alone in bed with Hunter. Closed off in a room for hours. Just the two of them.

He stretched forward and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, his eyes roaming her face. She thought she’d die of the pleasure. She tried not to move, but controlling her breathing was impossible. The sheet moved in response to her pounding heart and lifting chest.

“You’re beautiful, Mrs. Wade,” he whispered, a crooked smile pulling his lips.

She wanted him to kiss her. Chase away all her uncertainties. Was he teasing again? In a minute would he lean back and laugh? She didn’t care what anyone thought of Hunter. She loved him with all her heart. His eyes had the power to render her speechless, like they were doing now.

When she didn’t respond, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his woodsy scent fogging her mind. He inched forward, and as he did, they rolled together until she was half beneath him, his arms around her, the blankets and sheets still acting as chaperone. If he wanted to make this a real marriage, she wouldn’t stop him. Like Dichelle had said, she’d be the luckiest woman on earth. His mouth moved on hers in a slow perusal that made her yearn for so much more.

When he began to pull away, she tightened her hold. She prayed this wasn’t a dream.

“Hunter,” she whispered against his lips. “Make love to me.”

He stilled, and she was frightened that she’d been too forward. Gone too far. He probably felt awkward with her mother in the next room.

He nuzzled her neck, then put his lips to her ear, sending a torrent of hot tingles racing down her back. “You sure?” he whispered. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. Remember the letter we sent. What we do tonight can’t get undone.”

She was committed. There wasn’t anything she wanted more in her life. “I’m sure.”

“You deserve a whole hell of a lot better than me, Miss Hoity-Toity. I can’t give you much.”

“There is no better than you, Hunter. I’ve known it since our walk under the stars . . .”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He took claim of her mouth again, her person. She was transported to the stars and back, but never left his arms.

“Tabitha? I hate to intrude, but it’s very late. I’m worried something has happened to you. That man has a reputation . . .”

Mother! Just outside her door.

Tabitha glanced over at Hunter, who’d failed to awaken at four, like he’d promised her. Love flooded her heart. She reached out and touched his bare shoulder, for a moment reliving the ecstasy they’d shared last night. How she loved him. Her wagon-train boss.

“Tabitha?
Please
, answer me.”

Tabitha scrambled out of the covers and quickly slipped her nightgown over her head, finger-combed her hair, and then wrapped herself in the divider blanket that had ended up on the floor moments after Hunter had come to bed. The thought made her smile. Carefully opening the door so as not to wake her husband, she stepped out onto the landing and closed the door behind her.

Her mother’s eyes popped open wide.

Had she and Father never been young?

“Tabitha!” Censure turned her mother’s voice to steel.

“What?”

Her mother stammered for words, and finally waved them away, unable to voice her dismay.

“What?” Tabitha asked again. Her mother had been at the wedding. That she looked a tousled mess shouldn’t be surprising.

“Look at you! I never thought . . .”

She took her mother’s arm and walked her away from her door to the top of the steps. “Well, in that lies the problem. Maybe you should have. Hunter and I are married. Only three days ago. You invited yourself here. Don’t make me feel ashamed for something I shouldn’t. Don’t do that to me ever again. I won’t allow it. And while we’re clearing the air, please don’t imply anything about Hunter again. Everything you’ve heard has been lies. He’s a good man and deserves your respect.”

Marigold’s mouth snapped closed. She looked like a chastised child.

“What time is it?” Tabitha asked.

“Ten. I’ve been downstairs for hours. The street is already busy. If I’d known you were going to, to, ah well—I could have opened the store for you.”

Ten! It
was
late. She had the reading this evening and had more baking to do.

“Thank you for waking me then. I had no idea of the time. Why don’t you go out for some breakfast at the restaurant? It will give you a chance to mend fences with Aunt Roberta. She usually works Tuesday mornings.”

“What about the store?”

“I’ll put a note in the window that we are opening at eleven today. Mornings are usually very slow. No one will mind.”

“I already ate some—”

Tabitha crooked one brow.

“All right. Give me two minutes and I’ll be gone. I’ve already warmed a kettle of water on the stove. You can use it to . . .” She swished a hand in front of Tabitha.

“Thank you. That was very kind.” At her mother’s befuddled expression she had to smile. “Everything is going to be fine, Mother,” she said softly. “Go on to breakfast, and I’ll see you in a little while. Don’t forget we have the reading tonight, and I have to prepare the store and bake some goodies. You can help me with that.”

Wonder passed over Marigold’s face. “Yes, I’ll be happy to.” She leaned forward and kissed Tabitha on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

Tabitha smiled and gently shook her head in astonishment as she watched her mother go down the stairs. She listened as her mother gathered her things and opened the door. “I’ll lock the door behind me, daughter,” she said. “Don’t forget to put up the sign.”

Five thirty arrived like a speeding bullet. After waking late, then doing some morning chores at the Bright Nugget, Hunter had spent the day helping his wife prepare for her big day. Miss Hoity-Toity no longer, whenever Tabby came close, every sense he owned sprang to life. She’d surprised him last night, and he had to struggle to keep his thoughts on what he was supposed to be doing. At the moment, after he’d cleaned up for the second time in one day, he was putting the finishing touches on the room. He’d already pushed the standing shelves to the walls, making room for the benches she’d already had and adding five more. It was tight, but he hoped the crowd would fill them.

Susanna came in dressed for tonight, two platefuls of cookies in her hands. She smiled and took them to the kitchen. “More goodies.” She glanced around. “Where’s Tabitha?”

“Upstairs getting ready. She should be down any time.” At that moment, Marigold started down the stairs dressed to the hilt in a blue velvet gown, and quite fancy for any doings in Logan Meadows. “What’s the news from Rock Springs?” he asked. “Has Albert returned?”

A frown appeared on Susanna’s face. “No. Neither he nor Thom. I did receive a telegram this morning. More tension, and one more killing. A white man this time. They can’t tell if he fell or was pushed off a twenty-foot-high ledge in the mine. That’s amplified the tensions. It’s one thing if a Chinese man is murdered, but if a white man dies . . .” She shook her head. “Anyway, it’s a mess. I’ll be so relieved when they both come home.”

Marigold went to the kitchen counter and surveyed the cookies Susanna had just placed there and the cakes and other baked goods she and Tabby had made. She came into the room where they were and stopped next to Hunter.

Susanna nodded politely at the same time the door flew open and Nate barreled into the shop, his color high. “Ma,” he gasped for air. “Mrs. Donovan is coming down the street with Markus. Can him and me go froggin’ during the reading? We’d rather do that than sit in here.”

Susanna patted down his damp hair that looked as if it had been combed at one time. “No, you may not. Hannah expects Markus to sit quietly and listen. I expect the same from you. You know Sunday after church is your frogging time. Listening to literature is one way of learning.”

“That’s very good advice, young man,” Marigold said, her fingers twined together in front of her skirt.

Nate shrugged, disappointment on his face, and exited the shop.

A buggy pulled up outside, the first of the guests to arrive. Hunter recognized the women from New Meringue, with two new faces. His wife was a darn good marketer. If this kept up, her book sales would grow handily each week, and her mortgage wouldn’t be a worry.

At the sound of light footsteps on the staircase, he turned, his breath catching in his throat at the beautiful sight. Tabitha wore a creamy-yellow dress made of a fabric that looked soft and inviting. A light, matching shawl covered her perfectly straight shoulders. Part of her hair had been pulled back and done up at the crown with a matching ribbon, and the rest cascaded down her back.

Last night rushed back with a vengeance. As much as he’d felt her devotion to him, she’d never actually said that she loved him. He hadn’t said it either, but he had married her when she’d needed him. She must realize that. At the troubling thoughts, he glanced away. Maybe it was only her curiosity about the ways between a man and a woman that had her invite his touch. He couldn’t blame her, for the proof of her innocence had been evident. She’d waited until she married and he’d been her only man. His heart squeezed with ardent love, knowing he’d lost himself to her fully. If she still wanted to separate after her mother left town, he’d never be the same.

Tabby breezed over to their group and gave Suzanna a warm hug, her gaze finding his over her friend’s shoulder. There was something different in the back of her eyes that warmed his face and brought a smile to his lips. For now, he’d enjoy his time with her, this feeling of home and belonging.

“Hello,” the four women from New Meringue said as they stepped inside. “Are we too early? We wanted to get a better seat than we had last week.”

Tabby put out her hands, and the first woman through the door took them in her own.

“Not at all, Mrs. Johnson,” Tabitha said. “Please, come in. Save a spot and then feel free to browse. The shelves are somewhat out of order, but if you need help finding something just let me”—she glanced at Hunter and smiled—“or my husband know, and we can assist you. Or my mother, as well. We’re so happy you’ve made the trip.”

The man who’d been driving the buggy and tending to the horse stepped in and took off his hat. “Hello,” he said, looking around. He’d not been here last week. “I heard so much about your shop from my wife, I just had to come see it for myself, Miss Canterbury.”

“It’s Mrs. Wade now,” Tabitha’s mother surprised Hunter by saying. She nodded at him, a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Another buggy pulled up outside with faces he’d never seen before, and Brenna and Gregory, along with their children, arrived, too. It looked like tonight would be another sellout crowd, the only difference this time, he was part of the group. Last week he’d stood at the doors of the saloon wishing he were here, and now he was. His gaze sought out his wife, finding her welcoming Brenna and then going to the new arrivals and meeting them. Pride warmed him. He was surprised when he felt a hand on his arm, and looked down.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Wade,” Marigold said, as she pulled her gaze away from her daughter. “And I’m a lucky mother. I guess I never really knew her strengths before. Never opened my eyes to her value. I have to say, I’m enjoying my time here in Logan Meadows. Perhaps I’ll stay longer than I planned.”