Authors: Colleen Faulkner
"It's all right, really." She walked up the steps and slipped her
key into the lock. "It only makes sense to have your money safely
invested. I'm not so sure I would trust banks either." She pushed open
the door, and Silver bounded out onto the porch and down the steps.
Fox groaned. "Celeste, you're not listening to me." He closed the
door behind them. "I have no money. None. Anywhere. About a dollar and
a half in my pocket."
As she lifted her fanchon bonnet from her head, she turned to face
him, taken completely by surprise. What did he mean he had no money?
Did he mean he
really
had no money? "I don't understand."
He stared at the polished hardwood floor of the foyer. "Hell, I feel
so bad about this." He took a deep breath as if struggling for air, and
started again. "I mean I'm a poor man. I lied to you, or at least
allowed you to believe what wasn't so. I have no cash, no investments,
no property, but what you and I share."
She lowered the bonnet to her side, trying to comprehend what Fox
was saying."No money?" she murmured. Fox wasn't the rich San Francisco
businessman that John had said he was?
"But what about all those successful business ventures John told me
about? What about the homes in New York and San Francisco? What about
the investment in the China shipping company?"
"It was all true." He swept his hair off his forehead, sounding defeated. "Once."
"What happened?"
"My partner stole from me, left me with bad debts." He scuffed his
boot. "James Monroe was my partner… and Amber's brother. I was a fool."
He raised his palms lamely. "I trusted him completely, and he was a
liar and cheat. Her, too."
"Oh, Fox." Celeste held her hat with both hands, the tulle ribbons
dangling to the floor. She wanted to touch him, but she didn't want him
to misconstrue her sorrow for him as pity. "Did John know?"
He shook his head, studying a pattern of the wallpaper somewhere
beyond her. "No. I didn't tell him. It only happened last year. James
took off right after… after Amber died."
She hung her hat on an oak hook. "So that's why you didn't come to Carrington before."
"It was a mess. I was trying to keep creditors at bay until I could
liquidate what little I had left and pay what James owed them. Because
we were partners, his debts became my debts." Fox spoke faster than
before, as if he needed to get the confession out while he had the
nerve. "And John never said he was dying. He… he told me not to come,
Celeste." His gaze met hers, his stormy eyes filled with tears. "In the
last letter I received before he died, he said he was feeling under the
weather but that an angel had come from heaven to care for him. I
thought it was just more of his drunken, babbling nonsense. You know he
always talked nonsense when he imbibed."
"I'm so sorry." She took the two steps between them and wrapped her arms around him to hug him tightly. "So sorry."
"Oh, it's all right," He spoke nonchalantly, though there was still
a catch in his voice. "It was just money. After James and Amber did
what they did, the money didn't really seem to matter anymore."
"I mean about your father." She drew back to look into his eyes. She
knew how difficult this must have been for him to share with her. "I'm
sorry you weren't here with John. I'm sorry for him. For you both."
"It would have killed him to know I failed him." There was that tremor in his voice again.
She shook her head. "No."
"It was all that ever mattered to him," he argued. "My success. My
wealth. The clothes I could pay for, the kind of men and women I could
entertain."
"It's not true. He was proud of your success, but he loved you,
Fox." She forced him to meet her gaze. "I know. I was here with him. I
know the things he said."
Fox brushed his lips against her cheek. "I wish I could believe that. My whole life he pushed me, demanded achievement."
"Because he loved you. He said he always wanted more for you than he ever had."
Fox stared at her through a forelock that dipped over his eyebrows. "Maybe. Guess I'll never know now."
Men just didn't make sense to Celeste. Why was it so easy for them
to believe they were unloved, and so hard to convince otherwise? "You
need a haircut," she told him. Now she realized that he'd let it grow
so long and shaggy because he didn't have the money to pay a barber to
cut it. "Want me to doit?"
He seemed relieved that she had changed the subject. A little color returned to his face. "Know what you're doing?"
"I've done a hundred haircuts." She caught his hand and led him down the hallway to the kitchen.
"I don't know if I trust you with a pair of shears in your hand.
What if you go mad and stab me to death? I die, and you inherit all the
claims and the silver rights."
In the kitchen, she pushed him into one of the kitchen chairs. "Guess you'll have to trust me, won't you?"
He laughed.
"Be right back."
A minute later Celeste returned with a pair of shears and a
tortoiseshell comb. She could hardly believe that Fox had lost
everything he owned and kept it a secret from her. But she wasn't angry
with him. She understood why he did it. As difficult as it was for her
to comprehend, he saw his misfortune as failure.
Just like a man.
She dropped a frilly, white apron over her dress and carried a small
bowl of water to the table. The fact that he felt he could tell her the
truth made her feel good inside. Maybe there was a chance for some sort
of permanent relationship between them. But she didn't dare think about
it. Hopes only led to heartbreak. She of all people knew that. "Ready?"
She opened and closed the scissors rapidly.
"I suppose." He drew his head back as she brought the shears
dangerously close to the tip of his nose. "Just watch those things."
She dipped the comb into the water and combed his hair down straight
over his ears and forehead, completely covering his eyes. "Hmmm," she
said as she made the first snips. "I wonder if this is how it's done?"
"I thought you said you knew what you were doing?"
Snip. Snip
. "I lied," she told him cheerfully.
"Fine. Another business partner who's a liar. I can really pick them, can't I?"
Facing him, she bent over to see if she'd cut a straight line. "I'd
never lie to you, or cheat you out of a copper penny," she told him
seriously.
"Mmmmm, this is nice." He encircled her waist with his hands and pulled her a little closer to nuzzle her breasts.
She noted that he hadn't responded to her declaration of honesty,
but she decided not to press the issue. He'd talked more about himself
and his feelings in the last five minutes than he had since he arrived
two months ago. She didn't want to push him.
Celeste pushed his hand away as he tried to fondle one of her breasts. "Fox. Stop. Hold still, I'm almost done."
Obediently, he released her, and she sat on his lap to comb his hair
to one side. "Much better." She gave a nip here and there. "I can
actually see your eyes again."
He rested one hand possessively on her thigh. "Do you shave, too?"
She looked down at him as she smoothed his silky dark hair with one
hand. "You really are a trusting soul to put a razor in my hand."
He laughed with her, but then his expression grew serious. "Ah,
Celeste," was all he said, but his dark-eyed gaze was filled with
emotion.
Her heart swelled. He cared for her. He really did. Celeste knew he was fighting it, but he cared.
She rested her hand on his shoulder and lowered her head to kiss his
mouth. "Mmmmm," she sighed. "Best lips this side of the Rockies."
"This side? Both sides," he teased as he licked her lower lip with
the tip of his tongue. "Want to see how talented this tongue is as
well? I'd have to take you upstairs to show you."
As Celeste lowered her head to kiss him again, she caught a glimpse
of a shadow at the back window. She stilled on Fox's lap, and stared at
the window and back door. Someone was outside, watching them.
Fox glanced in the same direction. "What is it?"
"Someone looking in the window over the sink."
"Where's Silver?" He slid her off his lap and rose from the chair.
"I don't know." She followed him to the back door. "I think I left him outside."
"He should have barked." Fox drew back the lacy yellow curtain that partially covered the door. "I don't see anyone."
Celeste peered through the window as he drew back. "I could have
sworn—" Celeste was startled by a face that appeared only inches from
hers on the opposite side of the glass. She jumped back and gave a
little squeak of surprise.
Fox turned to her. "Is someone there?"
Celeste touched her hand to her bodice where she could feel her
pounding heart. Mrs. Turtle staring in her window? "Just Mrs. Turtle,"
she told Fox. Recovering, she. opened the door. "Mrs. Tuttle, you
startled me." Celeste couldn't figure for the life of her why the
reverend's wife had come to the back door.
"I knocked at the front, but there wasn't an answer." The prim woman
with her tight blond curls stepped into the house and placed a
cloth-wrapped basket on the worktable. She was dressed in a gray,
old-fashioned gown with a square-cut bodice and a diagonal ruffle that
emphasized her broad hips and thick waist. "I brought dried apple
muffins," she said, keeping her eyes cast downward so as not to look at
Fox. "The reverend is waiting for me in the wagon. I… I didn't mean to
be a bother."
"Oh, it's no bother. Thank you. Thank you so much."
Silver bounded through the door. Celeste was surprised the dog
hadn't barked a warning when Mrs. Tuttle walked around the house to the
back, but maybe it was because the reverend's wife was no stranger to
the dog.
"Would you like to stay for a cup of tea?" Celeste brushed back a
lock of red hair that had escaped from her loose chignon. Her cheeks
grew warm as she wondered just how much Mrs. Tuttle had seen through
the window. It was funny how a woman who had once made her living
having sex with men could be embarrassed by the thought of having
someone see her kiss a man.
"Oh, no. No time for tea today." Mrs. Tuttle backed her way to the
door, her gaze still downcast. The immense ruffles on her bonnet nearly
obscured her face, save for the curls that protruded stiffly from each
side like bag worms hanging from a tree branch. "Busy, busy, no time.
The good reverend has another funeral to do."
"That poor woman. I never met her, but I'm sad just the same."
Celeste followed Mrs. Tuttle onto the porch, thinking of Adam. "Did she
have any family?"
Mrs. Tuttle lifted her gaze to meet Celeste's for the first time
since her arrival. "I don't know," she said softly. "But considering
the circumstances of her death, it would be kinder if they didn't know,
don't you think?"
Celeste smiled grimly and nodded. Mrs. Tuttle had a point. She would
never want Adam to know what she had done to pay his tuition to the
deaf school. "Well, thank you for the muffins. I'm sorry you can't stay
for tea. Another time, perhaps."
"I must go." Mrs. Tuttle bustled down the wooden walk that led around to the front of the house. "The reverend's waiting."
Celeste waved, walked back into the kitchen, and closed the door behind her.
Fox grabbed her around the waist and spun her in his arms. "Is the Mrs. Rev. Creepy gone?"
She laughed and pushed on his shoulders to make him put her down. "I
don't know what got into her, staring in my window like that. Do you
think she saw me sitting on your lap kissing you?"
He pushed her gently against the floral wallpaper and kissed the
pulse of her throat. "Serve her right if she saw worse." He kissed a
particularly sensitive place on her neck. "She had to be standing in
your flowers to look in that window over the dry sink, the old badger."
"You can't talk about my friends like that." She kissed him
playfully on the lips as she brushed back the damp hair off his
forehead.
"And if I do?" He lifted a dark eyebrow comically. He acted as if
his earlier confession had lightened him by ten years and twenty
pounds. "How will you punish me?"
She laughed sensually as she took his hand in hers. "Let me take you upstairs and show you."
Enjoying being the seductress without having to fake it, Celeste led
Fox up the stairs and into her room. Inside the doorway she faced him
and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him closer and was
rewarded by the hard, hot sensation of his hungry mouth against hers.
In the last few weeks since they had begun having intimate
relations, she had been careful to remain passive for fear that he
would think she was playing the same part she had once played with
customers. This morning, however, she wanted to make love to him the
way she did in her dreams. She didn't just want to accept his
attentions, but return them, initiate them.
Fox sighed as she ran her hand over his clean denim shirt, then
lower to the button of his denim jeans. She could feel his muscles
relaxing beneath her touch. His hair was still damp; he smelled of
shaving soap and sunshine-dried clothing. She breathed deeply,
delighting in the masculine scent that was his alone.
Sighing, she parted her lips as Fox thrust his tongue into her
mouth. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of his hands
pressed into her back sent shudders of warmth throughout her body. For
the first time in her life she felt truly cared for… almost loved.
Of course she didn't know exactly what it would feel like to be
loved, because no one had ever loved her. John had come close; he had
worshipped her, coveted her, liked her, but never truly loved her.
Celeste's and Fox's tongues tangled in a sweet, wet dance as he
found the pearl buttons of her blue and green polonaise gown. With
nimble fingers, he unbuttoned the row to reveal her lacy nainsook
camisole. Feeling secure in his arms, she found the courage to open the
button of his pants.