Deborah Camp (28 page)

“I’m sorry. What did you say? I was daydreaming.”

“I asked if you enjoyed our trip into town,” he repeated, smiling indulgently. He was used to the wandering minds of women. They never could keep their thoughts focused for long. That was why it was better to
deal with their menfolk rather than try to talk business with a woman.

“Yes, it’s always nice to go into town. Things are changing fast in Eureka Springs, but I’m not so sure they’re changing for the better.”

“It means more prosperity,” Boone argued, “and that’s better than having a town filled with down-and-outers.” He started to say more but stopped himself. What was he doing, talking seriously with Cassie? She couldn’t grasp the importance of the town’s growth. He turned toward the picnic basket and changed the subject to something she could understand easily. “I’ll spread the cloth over this rock and you can set our table,” he said, indicating one of the “footstools.”

“Might as well.” Cassie helped him position the white cloth at the center of the flat boulder and then took his hand when he offered to assist her in sitting down on the warm rock. She curled her legs to one side and arranged her skirt over them. Boone removed his suit coat and folded it carefully before placing it beside the picnic basket. Then he sat on the other side of the white cloth.

Even with his suit coat removed, Boone looked dressed up. His tan shirt had not a wrinkle in it and was tucked neatly into the waistband of his brown trousers. Chocolate brown suspenders matched his boots and tie. He had city written all oyer him.

Cassie glanced down at her own skirt of bleached muslin and the rosebud-printed blouse she’d decided to wear that morning only because her usual work shirts were all dirty. She was glad she looked better than usual for Boone, but she still felt dowdy and unattractive beside his spit and polish.

“What have you got in here?” she asked, peeking curiously into the wicker basket. “Did your mama bake that bread?”

“No. I asked the Eureka Springs Cafe to pack this lunch for me. My mother, bless her heart, is a terrible cook. We’ve always had a hired cook because my dear mother never learned to be mistress of her kitchen.”

A hired cook, Cassie thought with a sense of disbelief.
Wonder if Boone’s mama hired other things done for her, like washing up her dishes and her clothes? Did she have someone come in and clean her house?

“Your mama’s lucky, like Jewel. Jewel has some live-in colored women who cook and clean for her and the other girls,” Cassie said but quickly wished she hadn’t when Boone gave her a startled look that soon became a ponderous scowl. Cassie shrugged and picked at the edge of the white tablecloth. “Jewel makes lots of money, I reckon.”

“Money made by sinning,” Boone said curtly as he removed two plates and silverware and handed them to Cassie. “I know she’s a friend of yours, but I don’t approve of that woman, and I certainly don’t like having her name mentioned in the same breath as my mother’s!”

“Boone, I’m sorry.” She dropped the plates and utensils into her lap and gripped his forearm with both hands, panic making her bold. “I didn’t mean …” Her voice trailed off as words deserted her. Why had he taken it all wrong? She’d meant nothing by it. Besides, no matter what Jewel did she was still a good woman, and Cassie didn’t feel right about condemning Jewel in front of a man who knew nothing about her.

She let go of him and sat back on the boulder, angry that he had forced her into a corner.

“I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it,” Boone said after a moment. “You weren’t thinking.”

Cassie considered this for a moment and decided she didn’t like his explanation. “No—it’s hard for me to talk to you. Your life is full and mine is empty. What can I say to you that’ll interest you? My chickens are growing, my garden is growing, the sun rises, and the sun sets. There. I’m all talked out.” She looked at the plates in her lap, wondered why he’d given them to her, and put one in front of him. Was he helpless? Couldn’t he manage two table settings by himself? “When I do say something, you jump all over me for it.” She pushed out her lower lip, peeved at him for being so difficult. “Guess I’d better keep quiet.”

“Cassie, don’t pout like that,” Boone said, cajoling her
and laughing a little at her sullen-little-girl expression. He crooked a finger under her chin and nudged it, bringing her gaze up to his. “I enjoy our talks. Everything you do is interesting to me.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose, then nodded his head at the basket. “There’s fried chicken in there. Why don’t you serve me some?”

Cassie thought he was joshing her at first, but his expectant expression convinced her he was serious. “This is your dinner, so I s’pose you’re the one that should do the serving,” she said sweetly. She had to freeze her facial muscles to keep from laughing when he stared at her as if she’d sprouted horns and a forked tail.

It was a standoff, pure and simple. After years of toiling in a mine with her father and weeks of waiting on a stranger hand and foot, Cassie was in no mood to play the dutiful servant. She wanted to please Boone, but she didn’t want the thing to get out of hand before it even started. She sure didn’t want Boone to think she was the type of female who was happy only when she had a man to wait on.

Boone, on the other hand, couldn’t believe that Cassie had directed him to set their table. Was she so backward in her social graces that she didn’t know that was women’s work? He didn’t want to bend to her will, but he didn’t want to rile her either. True, he’d heard that she was as mean as a broken-tailed cat when she was crossed. Nudging aside his manly pride for the moment, he forced a stiff smile to his lips and lifted the bundle of fried chicken from the basket.

“You do like fried chicken, don’t you?”

“Love it,” Cassie said, selecting a thigh from the mound of crisply fried pieces. She was pleased that Boone had avoided a quarrel and was again her friend. “It’s been a spell since I’ve had it, but it’s my favorite.”

“Splendid!”

She liked the words he used and the way his mustache turned up at the ends when he smiled. There were so many things she liked about him that she felt petty for making him set their table. Men were men, and most of them
thought women had been placed on earth only to baby them and raise their offspring. Boone was no different, but that didn’t mean he was a bad man. It just made him part of the majority.

When she was with Boone she felt like a lady, so she guessed the old saying was true: It took a gentleman to bring out the lady in any woman. She sure didn’t feel ladylike around Rook, she thought as Boone spread out the tasty dinner on the white cloth. With Rook she felt … She looked up at the blue canopy of the sky and saw a bird winging southward. With Rook she felt like a skylark. Full of song and soaring spirit.

Feeling like a lady with your feet solidly on the ground is better, Cassie told herself as she brought her gaze down from the sky to Boone’s smiling eyes.

“You’re looking mighty pretty today,” Boone said and chuckled when she blushed. “Is that blouse new?”

“Not really.” She plucked at one mother-of-pearl button. “You like it?”

“Very much.” He covered the hand at her bodice with one of his and leaned close enough to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Am I being too forward?” he asked, his mouth poised a bare inch from hers. “I don’t want to offend you.”

“I’m not.” Cassie lowered her gaze demurely, but she was uncomfortable with the situation. Why didn’t he just kiss her? Why did he have to ask so many questions?

His next kiss lasted longer. His mustache was prickly against her upper lip and at the comers of her mouth, but it was mildly pleasing all the same. She sensed his hesitation but didn’t know how to ease it. He drew back and kissed her again and then again. His kisses were impersonal and loud—what she’d heard described as pecks. She’d kissed her Pa’s leathery cheek like that a thousand times, but Cassie didn’t like being kissed by a suitor as if she were a kindly matron. She placed a hand behind Boone’s head, and when he’d given her another quick kiss and was about to draw away, Cassie pulled his mouth more firmly against hers. She felt him stiffen in surprise and then melt
into sudden submission. His arms circled her waist and he held her across his lap.

Cassie wound her arms around his neck in a movement that felt as natural as breathing. She was catching on quick to the courting game, she thought with a sense of pride. Jewel had said she had a lot to learn, but it seemed to Cassie that she was a quick learner. In a way she even felt superior to Boone, which was ridiculous because he most surely had had more practice and opportunity in these matters.

It was the way he was treating her—as if she were a newborn fawn—that made her bold enough to encourage his kisses, which were becoming more leisurely. He rubbed his lips and mustache against her cheek and laughed when she giggled.

“When I’m with you I feel like a different man,” he said, running his fingertips down the side of her face. “I feel as if I haven’t a care in the world. All I need is you to make me a happy, happy man.”

She averted her gaze diffidently. Pretty words were something she didn’t know how to handle. Since compliments had never been rained upon her, she hadn’t the slightest idea of how to accept them or even if she should do so. Wanting to show him how pleased she was, she pulled his mouth to hers again and kissed him the way Rook had kissed her: she slipped her tongue between his lips. Boone tore his mouth from hers and stared down at her surprised expression for a few moments. Cassie felt beads of perspiration dot her forehead.

What had she done? she wondered woefully. Had she committed some distasteful act? Oh, why had she imitated Rook? She knew he was a lowlife! She should have known that anything he’d done to her was downright disgusting and not suitable for clean-living folks.

“Cassie,” Boone said, finally able to make a sound.

“Boone, I’m sorry. I—I want to please you. I didn’t mean to—”

“Cassie, you wildcat, you!”

She had little time to realize that his tone was not one of disgust but of pure ecstasy. His mouth fastened on
hers, no longer hesitant. He thrust his tongue in her mouth and his arms crushed her body against his. But the way he kissed her wasn’t at all like Rook’s kisses. Rook’s deep kisses had been like silken caresses. Boone’s were an invasion. His startling transformation from a shy suitor to an aggressive man of action rendered Cassie senseless for a few moments. By the time she’d recovered from the shock, Boone had taken her passivity for acceptance and had slipped his hand beneath her blouse. Like a homing pigeon, his hand found one of her breasts and covered it.

That he would take such a liberty only minutes after telling her he didn’t want to offend her incensed Cassie. She pushed his hand away none too gently and scrambled out of his lap. Smoothing her mussed hair back from her damp forehead and into place, she glared at him until he actually cringed.

“Why’d you do that? You think I’m a loose woman? You think you can offer me fried chicken and then take your pleasure?”

“No, no!” He held out his hands and waved them back and forth in a sudden fit of panic. “No, Cassie. Don’t say such things! I’d never think such things about you! I—I love you.”

“You
what
?” she asked, more sharply than she intended. That any man could fall in love with her—especially an educated one like Boone—was completely ludicrous. It was like believing that giants walked the earth and that fairies used mushrooms as umbrellas.

He stared forlornly at the platter of chicken and bowls of potato salad and slaw. “You think I’m a fool. Who can blame you? I’ve behaved badly for a man who wants nothing more than your approval”—his gaze swept up to hers in an arc of hope—“and your consent that I might see you again even after I’ve treated you so—sordidly.”

Cassie had no idea what that last word meant, but she figured out that he was apologizing in his own belabored way.

“I don’t think you’re a fool,” she said, straightening her blouse and regaining her edge over him. “I just don’t believe for one minute that you l-l-l—” the word “love”
stuck to the roof of her mouth and she had to force it out—“that you love me.”

“But I do!” Boone insisted. “This might seem sudden to you—”

“It does. Awful sudden.”

“But I’ve been admiring you for some time, Cassie. Since before your father was struck down.”

She flipped a napkin across her skirt and picked up one of the heavy forks. “Now why would a man of your means be admiring a dirt farmer’s daughter like me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

She glanced at him through her lowered lashes and was amazed to find he wasn’t laughing. “Boone, I don’t know what to say back at you when you say things like that.”

“Tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll be ever so grateful.”

She laughed under her breath and settled herself into a more comfortable position on the boulder. “I don’t hate you, but I’d like you a mite better if you’d quit apologizing and spoon some of that potato salad onto my plate.”

“Oh, Cassie!” Joy lit up his green eyes and tipped up the ends of his mustache. He gazed at her in mindless glee for a few moments before he calmed himself and did her bidding. “I hope you enjoy this meal. I’m sure it’s not as good as what you could cook.”

“I’m sure it’s better.” Cassie noted his nervousness and took pity on him. “Boone,” she said, reaching across the feast between them and placing the palm of her hand lightly against the side of his face. Her gentle touch acted like a sedative on him. “I forgive you. We both got carried away and we’re both back to our senses again. I sure don’t like you any less because of it.”

He turned his head and kissed her palm before her hand slipped from his cheek. “Thank you, Cassie. You’re an understanding woman. I usually don’t behave so badly, but I’ve never been in love before.” He noticed her fleeting frown. “You don’t believe that I love you?”

“I find it hard to swallow,” she admitted.

“Why?”

She shrugged and rearranged the cloth napkin on her lap.
“I dunno. I just never thought it was possible for a man to see much in me to love.”