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Deborah Camp (43 page)

BOOK: Deborah Camp
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Oh, she loved every inch of this man!

Resting her cheek against his hair-roughened skin, she looked down the length of his body as a marksman might peer along the sight of a gun barrel. She found the sight entrancing—from the growth of dark, coarse hair to the tiny tufts of it on the knuckles of his toes. Her hand slipped down over his hipbone and her fingers curled around his manhood with a lover’s familiarity. He was flaccid now where he had been possessed of iron strength only minutes before. What a wonder was a man’s body! The good Lord sure as shooting knew what He was doing when He had crafted the male of the species.

Delightful differences, she thought and smiled to herself. When Jewel was right, she was right. Darn tootin’.

Again she experienced that sense of wonder as she allowed herself to think about Rook being in love with her. Was it really possible that an educated, handsome lawyer could be smitten with a backward country bumpkin like herself? Then her new-won self-esteem forced her to admit that she was no longer backward or a bumpkin. Rook and Jewel had opened her eyes to a wider world and a rainbow of possibilities.

She refused to dwell on her future with Rook or even whether there would be one, telling herself that this moment was far too special and too important to shadow it with the dread vision of being left behind again.

With a boldness she’d never dreamed she possessed, Cassie rained kisses over Rook’s chest, stomach, and thighs until she’d roused him from his doze. He chuckled but kept perfectly still while he savored Cassie’s love play.

“Ummm, I love your muscles,” she whispered, spreading her hands across his thighs. “Are all men so muscled?”

“Don’t worry about all men,” he told her with a mock scowl. “You just keep your mind on this man. Besides, every other man is a sorry piece of work compared to me.”

“Hah!” She slid up his body until she was nose to nose with him. “Do I look like I’ve got ‘stupid’ written all over my face?”

He answered with a heartwarming smile while he smoothed her hair back from her face. “When I think of all the times I wanted you …” He shook his head sadly. “I think I started falling in love with you when you threw that spoon at me. Remember that?”

“Yes.” She laughed with him as she ran her fingers through the mat of hair on his chest in an unconscious caress. “And I remember you telling me your last name was Dawson.” She laughed and gave him a chiding look. “You said it so unnatural-like I knew you was lying through your teeth.”

“Jewel and I made a pact.”

“I know, I know,” she said, easing his guilty conscience and then returning to their list of favorite moments. “I liked it when you kissed the back of my neck.”

“When?”

“When you was putting that medicine on my back after the bear scratched me up.”

“Ah, yes. I couldn’t figure out if you liked that or if it turned your stomach.”

“I
liked
it.” She touched her mouth to his lightly, lingeringly, and parted her lips just enough for the tip of her tongue to peek out and tease, him. He stirred to life, pressing
into her soft thigh, but Cassie sprang from the bed before he had a chance to persuade her to stay for another hour of lazy lovemaking.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a stunned voice.

“I’ve got to meet someone,” Cassie said, grabbing up her clothes from the floor and furniture. “That’s another reason why I was in town today. I’ve got an appointment to keep.”

“An appointment with whom?”

She paused in her hurry to dress and smiled affectionately at him. “ ‘With whom,’ ” she repeated. “You sounded just like a lawyer then.”

“I
am
a lawyer, but don’t change the subject. Who are you leaving me for?”

Cassie turned her back on him as she shimmied into her skirt. “Boone Rutledge,” she mumbled indistinctly.

“Who’s that? Speak up.”

Giving up the idea that she might fool him, Cassie turned around to face Rook fairly. “I’m meeting Boone for dinner.”

“The hell you say!” He sat bolt upright and glared at her, his expression partly disbelieving and partly furious. He sputtered speechlessly for a few seconds, then combed his ebony hair back from his forehead in an agitated gesture. “I hope you’re joshing me, Cassie. For your sake, I hope this is your idea of a joke.” He squinted his brown eyes, waiting for her to admit this was her pitiful idea of a joke. “Cassandra,” he said, drawing out her name in a warning growl. “Why aren’t you laughing?”

Cassie tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace. “I agreed to meet him before all this happened,” she said, spreading out her hands to encompass the bed and the naked man in it. “He’ll be expecting me.”

“So what? Send someone to tell him that the dinner date is off.”

“No, I can’t do that.” She stuck her arms into the sleeves of her white blouse and buttoned it up the front.

“Why can’t you do that?” Rook persisted, throwing aside the sheet and swinging his feet to the floor.

“Because I want to see Boone, that’s why.”

Rook stood up and pulled his trousers on slowly while he glowered at Cassie.

“Rook, I’ve got to square things with Boone,” Cassie explained when his steady glare threatened to unnerve her. “So don’t turn your feathers inside out over this.”

“How can you make love to me and then meet Boone for dinner?” Rook asked. “Answer me that!”

She stepped up to him and slipped her arms around his middle. “I love you, Rook.”

“One hour. That ought to do it. I’ll expect you back here in one hour.”

“No.” She leaned back and looked up at him soberly. “I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll talk about you and me becoming us. Tomorrow, when everything’s settled and I can begin a new life. I’ve just got to tie up some loose ends before I can start anew.”

“Does that mean you’re going to tell Boone to find some other woman to make a fool of himself over?”

“Yes.” She grinned and rose on tiptoe to kiss his stern mouth. “Satisfied?”

He regarded her for a long moment before his arms fell away from her. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and eyed the woman before him, thinking that she was being devious.

“You’re not telling me something,” he said, voicing his suspicions. “What’s going on behind those innocent big blues?”

“Nothing,” she said with a gay laugh.

“Why won’t you come back here and spend the night with me?”

“Because I’ve got to get back to the home place. I’ve been gone all day and my charges’ll go hungry if I don’t get back to feed them tonight. I’m not footloose and fancy-free like you. I’m a property owner and chicken raiser.” She squared her shoulders and beamed proudly at him. “I’ve got responsibilities!”

Her naive charm delighted him, and in that moment he would have forgiven her anything and believed anything she told him.

“Cassie,” he said, heaving a long, heartfelt sigh. He
reached out, grabbed and hauled her into his arms. His lips moved down the smooth column of her throat, and he wondered what he’d done to deserve this personal piece of heaven. “I love you so much that I hate to let you out of my sight even for a moment.”

“Rook, please.” She pushed his arms down and away from her. “I’ve got to go now or I’ll be late.”

“Would that be such a tragedy?”

Cassie ignored this last attempt to dissuade her and gathered up her hat and purse. She looked around the hotel room, imprinting it firmly on her memory, from the green-shaded bed lamp to the rosebud-printed wallpaper, and went toward the heavy door.

“You’re really leaving,” Rook said in a dull voice.

“Only for now,” Cassie assured him. She opened the door and turned back to him long enough to throw a smile and a kiss in his direction.

Rook caught the kiss in midair and tucked it into his trouser pocket as the door closed behind the woman who owned his heart. The shadow of her smile floated before him long after she’d gone.

The Southern Hotel was a balconied box with a peaked roof. It overlooked Basin Spring Park and rose above the town’s center like a four-tiered architectural wedding cake, with a winding outside staircase that zigzagged down to the park and Main Street. Five black chimneys sprouted from the steep roof, and its windows stared blankly out over Eureka Springs. Tucked against a hill, it climbed the slope and tapered down to a series of single-storied out-buildings, which included a livery stable.

The dining room was pleasantly abuzz with lively conversation, and the aroma of duck wafted over the other savory scents. In the center of the spacious room was the table for two that had been reserved for Aaron Rutledge’s only son and his lady friend.

Boone was starched and pressed in a tweed suit and freshly laundered shirt. His russet hair was slicked back, his mustache newly waxed. He nodded to each diner who passed by and stopped to ask after his father.

“Good evening, Boone. Give my regards to your father.”

“Hello, son. How’s Aaron doing?”

“Boone Rutledge! Say hello to your father for me.”

“Aren’t you Aaron’s boy? Tell him that Fred Tinker said howdy.”

The young woman seated with him at his table was of little consequence to these well-wishers, who considered her no more important than the crystal salt and pepper shakers. She could have disappeared into thin air, and no one would have noticed other than her dinner companion.

“You know a lot of folks, don’t you?” Cassie asked after at least a dozen people had paused at their table.

“My father knows a lot of people,” Boone amended. “The president of the bank makes acquaintances easily.” He pulled his collar away from his neck and scratched a patch of irritated skin there. “Of course, I’ve tried to make a place for myself here, but Father is so well known that I—well, I’m only the bank clerk.”

“He’ll retire someday and you’ll take his place,” Cassie said, thinking it was a foregone conclusion.

“Either I or my brother-in-law,” Boone said, and something in his voice raised goosebumps on Cassie’s arms. “Daniel married my sister Lilah. He works in the bank too.”

The resentment in him did not go unnoticed by Cassie. “But your father wouldn’t put an in-law above his own son, would he?”

Boone glanced around him jerkily as if he found the conversation upsetting. “You can’t predict my father’s actions. He adheres to no traditions and he thrives on doing the unexpected. He and Daniel are as close as Siamese twins these days. Ever since Daniel fell into that silver-mine deal last winter and—” Boone pressed his lips together and ran a hand over his mustache. Then he glanced up and said, “Here’s our dinner. Let’s enjoy it, shall we?”

The duck was succulent, surrounded by green vegetables and pearl onions. Cassie had little appetite, but she forced herself to eat a fair portion and hoped that Boone wouldn’t notice her lack of enthusiasm. His appetite was ferocious,
and he was so fully absorbed in consuming his meal that he didn’t look up from his plate until there was nothing left of his duck but bones and a few pieces of skin.

“You’ve hardly spoken,” he observed. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“I’m feeling fine,” Cassie said, remembering the man she’d left in a room at the Crescent. “In fact, I’m glowing with good feelings.”

Boone studied her minutely before he ventured to agree. “Yes, you are. Your eyes are shining like sapphires. Why are you so happy this evening?”

“W-e-l-l,” she said, drawing out the word with a sly flutter of her lashes, “I’m celebrating, I guess you could say.”

“Celebrating what?” Boone leaned his elbows on the table and lifted his carrot-colored brows.

Cassie leaned forward too in a conspiratorial fashion. “I think I’m rich,” she whispered and bit her lower lip to keep from laughing when Boone’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the bait—hook, line, and sinker.

He recovered quickly and assumed a bland expression. “Did one of your chickens lay a golden egg?” he asked in a weak attempt at wit.

“Not exactly,” Cassie said, to prolong his suffering.

“Then what?”

“I was working in Pa’s mine …” She left the sentence dangling, and Boone’s brow broke out in glistening beads of sweat.

“Yes, yes?” he said, bending over the table again.

“I found something in there.”

“What? What did you find? Gold or silver? Which is it?”

Cassie stalled for time, pushing aside her plate and thus drawing the attention of a passing waiter, who stopped and cleared the table.

“Would you care for dessert or coffee?” the waiter asked politely.

“No,” Boone snapped, then laughed nervously when Cassie and the waiter looked shocked. “I mean, none for me. Would you like something else, dear?”

His endearment made her stomach lurch.

“No, thank you.” She forced herself to sound pleasant and wished Boone had choked on his duck. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“Good.” Boone’s pointed glance sent the waiter scurrying. “Now, tell me about your discovery and why you think you’re rich.”

Cassie crossed her arms on the table and tipped her head back to look down her nose at Boone, feeling deliciously superior to him. “Diamonds,” she said, clearly and distinctly. “I’ve found what folks around these parts call Arkansas diamonds. They go for a pretty penny, don’t they?”

“Dia—” Boone swallowed hard and tried again. “Diamonds.”

“That’s right,” Cassie said.

Boone mopped his forehead with his handkerchief and stuck it back into his breast pocket. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“You might be wealthy at that.” He tried to smile, but the intensity of his greed made it impossible. “Lucky girl. You’re a very lucky girl. I’d be glad to help you—”

“I don’t need any help,” Cassie said, cutting him off as he played right into her hands. “I’m handling this.”

Hope died in his eyes and despair pulled down the corners of his mustache. He tugged out his handkerchief again, ran it over his face, and again pushed it back into his pocket.

“Cassie, I believe you’re biting off more than you can chew. As your friend—your
close
friend—I can assist you in this most delicate matter. Once the word gets out that you’ve discovered diamonds—”

“I haven’t told nobody but you. You’re not planning on spreading the news, are you?”

BOOK: Deborah Camp
8.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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