Restless Heart (4 page)

Lettie led her to the table and they sat down. “What did you feel?” She seemed genuinely interested, as if she herself had never experienced such attraction either.

“It was like a thousand fireflies had landed inside me, their heat and flutters warming me until I felt hot. His lips were so soft, softer than flower petals.” Angeline had never considered herself a poet, but the words simply flowed from her, as if they’d been trapped there since her encounter with Samuel. “I didn’t understand what was happening and my reaction scared me.”

Lettie sighed. “I remember that feeling, the trembling in your stomach, the tingles on your skin.”

“Yes, that’s it, exactly.” Angeline frowned. “You didn’t feel that with …”

“No, absolutely not.” Lettie shook her head so hard, her hair nearly came out of its bun. “I felt nothing but disgust and fear with Josiah. No, it was another man, my first love, Robert. We waited to get married until I was twenty-three, but by then his parents had already arranged for him to marry an eighteen-year-old girl.”

“I’m sorry, Lettie. I didn’t know.” Angeline saw the sadness beneath the anger. Lettie might be a bit caustic on the outside, but it was a wall she’d built to protect herself from the terrible dark things in the world.

“It was seven years ago, a lifetime it seems. I never forgot
the feeling of kissing Robert though.” Lettie looked infinitely sad. “I knew he was the only man for me, but he has three children and a wife now. Sometimes I avoided going to church so I wouldn’t have to see them together.”

Angeline heard the pain in her voice and gripped her friend’s hands. “Oh, Lettie, there must be someone else out there for you.”

“I doubt that.” Lettie’s left brow rose. “We’re both stuck in a situation of our own doing, trapped by the shadow of a man who refuses to let us go.”

The reminder made Angeline’s stomach twist. Lettie was right, of course. They would never be free of Josiah Brown until he died. Although he was fifty, he was in excellent health judging by the strength in his hands and fists.

She wanted Lettie to tell her what to do, to reassure Ange-line her needs were normal, and to follow her instincts. Yet deep down, she knew it wouldn’t happen. Lettie knew the risks they took every day and having a relationship with a man was simply out of the question.

Angeline’s heart squeezed so hard, tears pricked her eyes.

I
t became a game of sorts. Sam would say hello and Ange-line would respond. Then she’d walk away before he could take the conversation any further. For the last two weeks, he’d been frustrated, aroused, and intrigued.

He could see in her eyes she was interested, yet she held herself back, turning away. Still, she met his gaze when he walked into the restaurant. Every time he saw her blue eyes, he immediately thought of their kiss, the sheer bliss of those stolen moments in the cold morning air.

Not to mention the dreams he was having about her every night. For Christ’s sake, he hadn’t come on his sheets since he was thirteen years old. He’d had to wash them twice over the last week. Thank God, his father hadn’t noticed. He was busy with the paper, or so lost in his own world, he wouldn’t have seen a train coming through their living room.

Sam had to talk to her, had to make her understand he meant her no harm. He couldn’t continue this way or he’d fall over from exhaustion. Even the Widow Primrose had noticed how distracted he’d been. For God’s sake, he’d nearly nailed his thumb to the fence he’d been building for her.

It was embarrassing as hell.

“You like that blond girl, eh?”

Sam turned to find an old man peering up at him. He was a grizzled old coot with the dirtiest clothes Sam had ever seen. He’d often seen the man hanging around behind the restaurant, digging in the scraps.

“That’s none of your business, old-timer.”

“It’s my business all right.” The old man poked at his shoulder with one bony, dirty finger. “I look after those girls at the Blue Plate for Pieter. He gives me free vittles, but even if he didn’t, I’d watch over them.”

Sam didn’t know what to make of the man. “How long have you been looking out for them?”

“Oh, roundabout five years.” The old man’s breath gusted past Sam and yesterday’s onions right along with it.

Sam eased back away from him, a hammer firmly gripped in his hand. “That so? Do they know about it?” He had no idea what loco notions the stranger had in his head, but he wasn’t about to take any chances.

“Miss Marta does and Karen. That Alice—” He scrunched up his nearly toothless mouth. “She’s mean enough I don’t talk much to her, but the blond angel, she’s something different.”

Sam narrowed his gaze. “You’d best not bother any of those ladies.” The last thing he wanted to do was get into a scuffle with an old man who was hard on his luck.

“I don’t bother them none. I just keep an eye on them is all.” The man looked insulted. “I just wanna make sure the angel is safe.”

Sam frowned at him. “What’s your name, old-timer?”

“Jessup. I used to work in the mines back in the day, but I got me a bum arm so mostly now I look out for folks.” He sounded as if he believed every word he said.

“What do you want with me, Jessup?” Sam needed to focus on work, not on a crazy old man.

“I seen you watching the angel.” Jessup eyed him up and down.

“She’s not your daughter or anything to you,” Sam snapped. “What I do is none of your business.”

“She’s an angel, that’s what she is. I don’t want no devil making her cry.”

“Cry? Who made her cry?” Sam’s own protective instincts surged forward.

“Well, now, I don’t rightly know who, but I seen her crying once or twice.” Jessup scratched his bald pate. “It was a bit ago, mebbe a month or so.”

“That was before I gave her, well, before I met her.” Sam didn’t want to admit to the man he’d been watching her since the moment she arrived in Forestville. It was only in the last few weeks he’d found the courage to speak to her. Fool that he was, he thought her too good for him, like the angel Jes-sup believed her to be. She was human just like him, if ethereal in face and form.

Jessup peered at him. “So you like the blond angel?”

Sam could have lied, but he didn’t. “Yep, I do.” He sighed and tapped the hammer against his palm. “Now all I have to do is convince her she likes me.” He managed a smile.

“I can help you with that.”

A spark of hope lit up inside Sam, although he was definitely dubious. “You can help me.”

“Yep, sure can.” Jessup grinned, showing his two front teeth. “The angel needs a good man to help her stop crying. I think you’re the right man.”

Sam didn’t know if the man was completely loco or if he could really help, but it was worth taking a risk. God knew he wasn’t doing a very good job of convincing her he was the right man.

“What can you do?”

Jessup smiled even wider. “You just wait and see.”

Angeline wanted to talk to Sam, but she didn’t know how to approach him. He said good morning to her or good afternoon
, and smiled. Each time he did it, she wanted to sit with him, to find out more about him.

But she didn’t.

She was a coward and she knew it. Life had taught her not to trust men and she’d learned her lesson well. Much as she’d enjoyed his kiss, and the book which she’d devoured in only two nights, Sam was still a stranger and a man. Angeline was completely unsure of what do to.

It had been two weeks since the kiss, since her world had turned sideways and all she could do was hang on. Two weeks of speaking to him without really talking. It was a beautiful morning and she happily agreed to go to the general store to pick up baking soda for Marta. The morning rush was over and there was still at least an hour before the dinner crowd began arriving. Since the bread for dinner was rising, Angeline was free to try to clear her head.

Her worn boots made a dull
thunk
on the wooden sidewalk as she made her way to the store. She’d had the boots for years and they pinched at the toe, not to mention the sole was nearly worn through. Although she’d love to be able to purchase a new pair, it was an extravagance her small salary could not endure. Angeline knew how to do without.

“Good morning, Miss Angeline.”

She turned to find Jessup, the old man who charmed her with his toothless grin and offers of help. “Good morning, Mr. Jessup.”

“Oh, I done told you, it’s just Jessup. I ain’t no mister.” He smelled decidedly ripe and she took a surreptitious step back to avoid the smell. It wouldn’t be polite to tell him how much he needed a bath with soap.

“Well then, good morning, Jessup.” She smiled and started to walk on.

Until he spoke again.

“I seen Sam Carver talking to you. Is he bothering you?”

If only he knew how much, but it wasn’t the kind of bother he was talking about.

“No, he’s not bothering me. Mr. Carver is a gentleman, Jessup.”

Except, of course, when he kissed her behind the restaurant, those sweet, hot kisses she couldn’t get out of her mind.

“Then he has my permission to court you.”

She turned to look back at him, her mind racing with the possibilities of exactly what Jessup was talking about.

“Pardon me?”

The old man hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and rocked back and forth on his heels. “Seeing as how you don’t got no family in Forestville, and I don’t got a family to look after, I figure we should look after each other.”

Strangely enough, his logic made sense to her. It was her heart, however, that stuttered at the thought that this stranger, a man who’d barely known her for six months, would be willing to be her surrogate family. It took a moment for her to find her voice.

“Jessup, that’s very kind of you. I’m not sure what to say.” And she didn’t. In her family, there were rules to be followed, chores to be done, but no room for this type of connection. How could she feel kinder toward a man she hardly knew than her own father?

“Oh, you don’t gotta say nothing.” He snapped his suspenders. “Now I seen Sam moping around and I seen you moping around. It seems to me you ought to get to courting, so there’s no more moping.”

It was as simple as that to Jessup. Stop fighting the urge to be together and simply be together. She wanted to so badly, her fists clenched around her small reticule. It would be so easy to give in, but it wouldn’t be fair to Sam. There could be no future for them other than broken hearts and empty promises.

“I don’t think I can do that.” She swallowed the lump of regret. “Mr. Carver should find another girl to court.”

“What if he doesn’t want another girl to court?” Sam’s deep voice came from behind her, startling her so, she must’ve jumped a foot in the air.

Angeline closed her eyes and counted to five before she answered. “Then he’s set himself up for heartbreak.”

She felt him step up behind her, his scent and the heat from his body washing over her.

“I’m willing to take that risk. Are you?”

What could she say? “Oh, by the way I’m married.” Although, in the eyes of the law, she had lived in sin as third wife to a church elder with hard fists and a nasty disposition. The truth was simply too horrible to speak.

His hands closed around her shoulders and her entire body sighed with relief. This was apparently what she’d been needing and wanting, his touch, his very presence in her life. An-geline didn’t know what connected her to him, but she knew it was strong.

“I don’t know, Mr. Carver.” Her voice was so soft, she hardly heard it.

“I asked you to call me Sam.”

He turned her around to face him, but she didn’t look up. Instead, she focused on the red-and-black plaid shirt stretched across the broad expanse of his chest. She was embarrassed to note there were no chest hairs poking up through the neck of his shirt. That made her wonder just how smooth his chest was, and then a low thrum began deep inside her.

Sam put his finger on her chin and raised her face until she met his gaze. His dark eyes were just as fascinating as she remembered, and up close, they were riveting.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, awake or asleep. I almost hammered my own hand this morning. If you don’t say yes to my courting you, I’m liable to do something really stupid.”
His thumb brushed her lips and a shiver snaked straight down her spine. “Please.”

“You’d best say yes, Miss Angeline, so’s I can be on my way.”

She’d forgotten about Jessup. Sam smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Angel, say yes.” His husky tone skimmed across her skin.

Angeline should say no, should step out of his reach and go to the store. She knew it, but she also knew she wasn’t going to.

“Yes.”

A loud whoop sounded from behind her as Sam leaned down to brush his lips against hers again. Tingles turned into something more at the touch. Angeline knew she’d made a choice, but whether it was the right one remained to be seen.

You should have told him about Josiah.

She pushed away the guilty voice inside her and focused on the incredible man in front of her. He cupped her cheek and his eyes darkened.

“You’re so beautiful, sometimes I wonder if you really are an angel. I could stare at you for hours and never get tired of the view. And your skin is softer than a rose petal.” He almost looked embarrassed at what came out of his mouth.

Angeline, on the other hand, was touched by his words. There weren’t too many compliments doled out in her family. Vanity was discouraged, as was celebrating individuality. She knew she wasn’t unattractive, but she never thought of herself as beautiful. Until Sam told her so on a dusty street in Forestville, Wyoming, on a sunny morning.

“Thank you.” Her voice was husky with emotion and it was her turn to be embarrassed.

“You’re welcome. Now can I escort you to wherever you’re going?”

Angeline wondered what people would say, but then
pushed aside the thought. This wasn’t Tolson and every move she made wasn’t catalogued in the good and bad columns of life. Walking arm in arm with Sam would simply be enjoyable.

“Yes, please. I’m going to the store to buy baking soda for Marta.”