Whispers on the Wind (A Prairie Hearts Novel Book 5) (29 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

A
rapping sound brought Hunter out of a deep sleep. Not recognizing the ceiling above his head, he sat up, letting the covers fall to his hips. He’d been dreaming, but he couldn’t remember about what.

The sound came again. He was in the bookstore’s upstairs bedroom. Where was Tabitha? Standing, he tugged on his pants and went to the door, pushing the hair from his eyes. He was halfway down the stairs before he realized he was shirtless and being stared at by Tabitha and, at the front door, her mother.

“When you didn’t show up to Sunday service I got worried,” Mrs. Canterbury stated, not taking her gaze off him. “I thought this heathen might have hurt you.”

“Mother, can you please come back later?” Tabitha said from behind her hand. “As you can see, now’s not the best of times.”

“I should say not!”

This woman was really getting on his nerves. “What did you expect,
Mother
? Last night was our wedding night.”

Her eyes bulged. He didn’t know if it was his familiarity or the subject matter. Either one, he couldn’t stop himself and laughed heartily. A smile appeared on his wife’s face as well. Marigold turned on her heel and was gone.

Closing the door, Tabitha took the throw from her chair and held it out. Feeling a mite shy, he wrapped it around his shoulders.

“Good morning,” she said first, her face flushed. Her dark hair hung loose down her back. Her prim and proper robe was cinched tight, just exactly as he’d expect it to be.

“Good morning.”

“I’m sorry about my mother. I know you came in very late. I’m sure you can use a few more hours of rest.”

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine.” The shop was warm. She must have been up for hours. From the looks of it, she hadn’t gotten much sleep herself last night. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Just past eleven.”

“Six hours of sleep is plenty for me. How about coffee? Have any?”

“I do. I’ll go put some on. I can’t believe I fell asleep in the chair by the window. Stayed asleep, too, even with people walking by on the boardwalk. I’ve never done that before.”

“I’m sure you haven’t, Miss Hoity-Toity. You’re by the book with everything you do. Sleeping in is probably a sin.”

She laughed again as he followed her to the curtained-off kitchen. He stood back and let her fill the pot with water and then grind the coffee beans. The heady aroma reminded him of mornings out on the trail.

“How was the show last night?” she asked as she worked. “The last time I looked, men were streaming in from everywhere. Did you pack the house?”

“Packed doesn’t do it justice. I’m anticipating the take. We made a bucketload of money. Hope to do the same next weekend.”

“Oh? Dichelle’s staying on? I don’t know why, but I sort of figured she’d be going home.”

“I hope she’ll stay. Can’t say for sure. She’s a free spirit, comes and goes on a whim.” He appreciated her interest in the saloon. A man couldn’t ask for more than that from his—
partner
.

“Will you bring in more shows?”

He smiled and rubbed a hand over his whiskered chin. “I don’t see why not, after the great turnout—and the stage we now have.”

“I agree wholeheartedly. I heard a gunshot. Was anyone hurt? I worry about Dichelle and Philomena in such a raucous atmosphere.”

“Raucous?”

“Wild. Loud. Disorderly.”

He’d remember that word and use it on Kendall. “Some fella hopped on the stage and tried to kiss Dichelle.”

Tabitha whipped around from what she was doing. “Is she all right?”

“Shaken up, but fine. She ran into
raucous
behavior in Soda Springs as well. A room full of men is unpredictable. The gunshot was me firing a warning to settle the crowd. That got
me
a warning from Albert. But, we’ll be ready next time. No one else will be climbing onto the stage.”

Tabitha smiled, catching his use of
raucous
. “Especially when imbibing.”

Now she was just showing off.

“After the show, I walked her back to the hotel. That was around ten thirty. From there, the men commenced to play poker and drink themselves senseless.” He rubbed a hand across his stubbled chin again, not quite understanding why men so freely threw away their hard-earned money.

Someone outside shouted, then the clomping of horse hooves echoed as it crossed the bridge. Laughter. More talking. A dog barking, people walking by. The place was not big on privacy.

“I feel like I’m in a fishbowl.”

“It’s not much different than above the sheriff’s office,” she said, looking at him over her shoulder, the length of her hair flowing down her back drawing his gaze.

“It’s much different. The height of being over the jail and the door being around back and up a staircase help. Here, anyone walking by might knock on your door.” He pulled the throw more securely around his shoulders, clearly making his point.

She blushed.

Knock knock knock.

Tabitha’s eyes grew wide and she sputtered a laugh.

When she started for the door, he caught her by her arm. “It’s Sunday. You’re closed. Besides, it’s probably your mother having thought of another stupid question. Let it go.”

“You sure? It might be Kendall?”

“It better not be Kendall. He knows better.”

When whoever was there went away without knocking again, she released a breath. It must be difficult to be a woman, doing and saying all the right things, or else being looked down upon. He couldn’t do it. No sir, not for a minute.

Without asking, he stepped past her to a loaf of bread and pulled off a chunk and put it in his mouth.

“Would you like me to cook some breakfast? I still have some bacon and eggs in my cold box.”

“I sure wouldn’t.” He chuckled at the look of dismay on her face. “When you’re ready, I’d like to take you out to breakfast. Nana’s Place or the Silky Hen. Whichever you prefer.”

She stared at him so long he thought she’d decline.

“Hunter, you don’t need to do that. This is business, remember? I don’t mind cooking.”

I’m not forgetting you’re miles above me, and I don’t need a reminder of how you feel.
“Business or not, I’d like to go out. Make a showing. Is that all right with you, Partner?”

She glanced away, and he saw her swallow. “Sure it is. I can be ready in twenty minutes.”

“Good, time enough for me to have a cup of coffee and shave.”

She started for the stairs, her color high. “I’ll meet you down here then. Everything you need is in your room.”

“I’ve seen it all, Miss Hoity—”

“—Toity,” she finished for him over her shoulder. “I’ll have to think up a name for you. Perhaps something that captures your wildness.”

“Wildness?” That made him puff out his chest and smile.

“That’s the first thing I thought when I saw you ride over the bridge and into town. That you were an untamed mountain man, windblown and hard.” Her laughter followed her up the stairs. “Little did I know you were really as sweet as a pup.”

“Let’s not get carried away!” he called out just as he heard her door click shut. “I liked the wild mountain man much better.”

Too late—she was gone.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

S
unday afternoon Tabitha sat at her desk looking over her bookwork, a stab of melancholy trying to burst her bubble of happiness. The last day and a half married to Hunter had been exciting. She recalled how handsome he’d looked on the stairs this morning, shirtless, while he’d addressed her mother as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She wished she weren’t so susceptible to her mother, and could just brush off her words as easily as Hunter seemed to. It was true what she’d told him about being happiest here the last year, living on her own. Now, he’d come along to make things even better.

It’s only pretend. Don’t lose your heart to him.

At Hunter’s bidding, she’d left her shades pulled down on all the windows, and because she had, the shop had stayed quiet. Cozy. She liked it. Two lamps burned in the shadowy room. It was Sunday, and everyone deserved a real day of rest.

In the past, she’d never really wanted one. She’d been here to do her friends’ bidding on a whim. She’d open up and let them look through the books. Now, she waited on Hunter to return from the saloon. The quiet seclusion felt good. What would they talk about? What would they do? Friends were staying away because they thought it was her honeymoon. She appreciated that.

The key rattled in the lock, and the door opened. Hunter came in looking a little self-conscious. He shrugged out of his coat, then hooked it by the door. He rubbed a hand over his soft leather shirt, and still wore the gun he never left behind. Did living in a town change a man?

“Are you going to take a shift tonight at the saloon?”

“I offered, but Kendall insists on doing it. Says a man only gets one honeymoon, and to take tonight off since I had to work yesterday.” He glanced around nervously. “At least the disorder from last night is all cleaned up.” He stretched his back and worked the muscles of his neck with one hand. He yawned and briefly closed his eyes, all the while standing by the front door.

“Sleepy? You haven’t had much rest.”

“I am.” He seemed to jump on that. Did he regret tying himself to her for even one month?

“Why don’t you go to bed early, since you have the night off?” she suggested, disappointment weighing her shoulders.

When he glanced at the kitchen, she realized that without even a small supper table, the place wasn’t very conducive to relaxation. She took most of her meals upstairs to eat in her bedroom chair. She’d need to find a small table that wouldn’t take up much room. Make a spot near the kitchen where he could have coffee, relax, read the newspaper.

He shrugged. Ambled over to the chair by the shaded window and lowered his large frame down slowly. “It’s only five. Much too early for that.” He sucked in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. “But soon. I do feel a bit worn around the edges.”

“Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten since our late breakfast. I can make you something, if you’d like.”

“No need. Philomena made some beans and meat at the saloon. I’m good, thanks anyway.”

She glanced away from his face to the ledger open on the desk. Hurt swirled inside. This was business. Nothing more. It was apparent he didn’t want her hovering, feeding, or suggesting things for him to do. Perhaps he was just tired, like he said. She shouldn’t read more into his grumpy mood.

The charming feel of the room had changed, and now she felt trapped. Conscious of her every thought or action, she stood. “I’m going to warm a cup of milk for myself. There are a couple butter cookies left, if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

His eyes were closed and his arms were crossed over his chest. Perhaps the planning of Dichelle’s performance had taken more out of him than he or she thought. He was tired. And should go to bed. But she’d not suggest it again. Really, what did she know of him? Not all that much. Not all that much at all.

She moved around the kitchen trying not to make noise, which was difficult when one was working the heavy iron door of the stove. All the anticipation of his return whooshed out of her in one great exhalation. What to do on a long Sunday afternoon when the one you wanted to be with didn’t want to be with you? That was the question. What had possessed her to make such a request to marry? Her pride. The dressing down in front of all the women. She shuddered and pushed the hurtful memory away. Her life had been going along so well before Hunter had come to town. And even after the walk, the kiss, and the slap. The two of them were on even footing then. At least she’d been her own woman and could hold up her head.

Not now. Would she ever again?

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

T
abitha sat bolt upright in bed when a loud clanging and banging sounded somewhere close outside. Had a late hibernating bear come into town, upsetting things in his path? Had she left her trash out again? She’d heard tell before that this time of year bears could make pests of themselves before settling in for winter, as they hunted for last-minute food.

With a pounding heart, she swung her legs over the bed and pulled her arms through her wrapper, the coolness of the air bringing gooseflesh to her arms. Searching her bedside table for some matches, she carefully lit her lamp. The sound outside was not moving along. Sometimes she thought she heard laughter, but mostly metal banging against metal. When she opened her bedroom door, she found Hunter at the top of the stairs, a sour look on his face.

“What is it? Do you know?”

“A shivaree.”

His tone was none too pleased. His long hair hung around his face and his eyes were red.

The banging increased and moved around the building to her bedroom balcony.

“What do we do?”

“I suppose we’ll have to make some kind of appearance or they might stay all night. I was getting some teasing in the saloon earlier—I suppose that’s when they were making their plans. I should have guessed.”

Was it the teasing that had him so grumpy when he came in?
“We can go out on my balcony and tell them goodnight. Will that do?”

He gave a wry smile and shrugged. “I’d think. Let’s get this over with.”

In her bedroom, she was about to pull her curtain aside, and then open the door, but Hunter stopped her. The cries and hollering below grew all the louder, as well as the pounding of noisemakers.

“Wait,” he said, looking her up and down. He reached out and with both hands mussed her hair until it felt like a tumbleweed and a good portion hung in her face. That brought a small smile to his lips. “One more thing.”

She stood like a docile lamb as he reached for the sash that kept her robe together. He loosened the knot, then pulled one side open a bit, and slipped it to the edge of her shoulder. The action brought a cascading tidal wave of desire crashing through Tabitha. Warmth pooled in her abdomen and she had to stay her impulse to look into his eyes. To quiet her knee-jerk response, she bit down on her lower lip.

His brow arched. “Do you want to make this convincing or not? It’s up to you. I know thoughts of being with me must be repulsive to your Hoity-Toityness, but just play along. It’ll save my pride.”

Why the big ox! How dare he misconstrue her reactions. Two could play at this game.

Outside, the crowd was yelling at the top of their lungs for them to get out of bed and make a showing. The lantern light must have signaled that they were now awake.

“You need some fixing, too,” she said, keeping a firm hold on her quavering voice. Having him so near, in her bedroom while she was in her nightgown, was totally unnerving.

With hands as steady as she could muster, she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it wide to expose his muscled chest. It was almost impossible to tug her gaze away from the light sprinkling of hair covering his bronzed skin. Throwing caution to the wind, she went up on tiptoe and mussed his already-tangled hair. The only thing left were his pants, which she figured he’d pulled on when he heard the racket outside, and she wasn’t daring enough to go there.

“There! That’s better. You look good and tousled. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

“You’re a goose, all right.”

His crankiness seemed to have abated, and she thought she heard a small chuckle. She lifted her chin. “Go ahead and open the door, I’m ready.”

Hunter took Tabitha’s hand and stepped out, a
wild
clamor rending the air from below. Buckskin Jack, unsteady on his feet, gave a whoop of victory. He held up a triangle and striker, rounding it so quickly Hunter couldn’t believe the drunk could move that fast. Beside him, Clyde plugged the ear closest to his friend and plopped to the earth, a silly smile stretching his face. Kendall was there, Mr. Hatfield from the train depot, Farley, and Mr. Harrell. And a bunch of other saloon regulars, all smiling and laughing, and calling out for a kiss.

Hunter held up his hand until they quieted. “Howdy, men,” he said with as much good humor as he could muster. “Good to see you all here so late. My lovely bride and I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

That brought a round of laughter.

He looked down at Tabitha, her eyes bright with excitement as she searched his face and waited to hear what he would say next. He realized this was probably the most daring thing she’d ever done.

“Kiss, kiss!”
the men shouted in unison.

Tabitha, who was nestled under his arm as if they really had just rolled out of a warm bed together, straightened her spine, probably dreading the intimacy.

“Kiss yer bride!” Buckskin shouted. “We ain’t going away until ya do!” He rounded the triangle with renewed energy.

If something wasn’t done fast, the whole town would come to see what was happening. As it was, lanterns at Thom and Hannah’s house across the bridge and up the road had been lit just since they’d stepped out. The last people he wanted to attract were Roberta Brown and Marigold Canterbury.

He glanced down into Tabitha’s sleep-soft face, his heart giving a hurtful twinge. She looked so beautiful in the light of the moon.

“What’re you waiting for?” Kendall called, waving his hat. “An invitation? Get on with it! I’d think you’re afraid of her or something. She’s not the town spinster anymore!”

He was the only one who’d heard the small sound of distress that escaped Tabitha’s throat.
Damn, Kendall.
Without waiting another second, Hunter wrapped her in his arms and found her mouth. The noise from below ratcheted up a few more notches. But that’s not what had his attention. It was his wife’s warm mouth, the feel of her body, void of any corset or other female thingamabob, tight next to his. Her arms circled his neck and pulled him close. Seemed she was just as eager as he was to make this look good.

“Whooeee, look at ’em!”

“Thatta boy, Hunter! Give her one for the saloon!”

“Let ’er come up for air afore she faints!”

The catcalls swirled around, but Hunter only knew the feel of Tabitha’s lips on his, the curve of her back beneath his palm, and the way her ragged breathing made him feel. Lord, this was more than a kiss for show, it had stolen his soul. He’d been trying to convince himself he was just doing her a favor by marrying her, but now he had to face the facts. He’d wanted to. Had dreamed of waking by her side and gazing into her deep green eyes.

They broke apart.

She avoided his gaze.

Rocked by the kiss, Hunter glanced at the men needing to direct his attention at anything but her. “There you go, gentlemen! Will that do?”

“Darn tootin’!” Buckskin called.

Farley put on his hat and pulled Clyde up by the arm. “Let’s go men. Fun’s over. Let’s let the lovebirds get some sleep—our whiskey awaits.”

“Sleep! Pooh. We know what they’ll be up to.” Clyde was so busy talking and grinning up at them that he almost fell off the bank of Sandy Creek. He righted himself, gave them one last wave, and followed the rest of the men around the corner of the building and back to the saloon.

The night was once again quiet. Except for the pounding of Hunter’s heart. He followed Tabitha back inside.

“I guess we did it now,” she whispered much to herself.

Hunter was busy buttoning his shirt. “What do you mean?”

“The letter we wrote, sealed, and mailed to Reverend Wilbrand with a note not to open until instructed. He’ll have a hard time believing our vow of chastity after he hears about the show we put on tonight.”

Hunter couldn’t stop a harrumph. “I don’t like vowing anything. Too hard to know what’s coming down the trail. That was your idea, not mine.”

She was chewing her lip again. “I know. I’ve pretty much messed things up.”

Glancing around her very feminine room, he rubbed the back of his neck. She was right. He didn’t have any comforting words. “Well, good night,” he said, avoiding her gaze. He disliked being so gruff, but his insides were in a knot and the feel of her lips had been too enjoyable. He needed some space. Turning, he returned to his own room, wondering how things had gotten so confusing so quickly. Without lighting his lamp, he stripped out of his clothes and got back under the covers, all the while thinking about Tabitha alone one room over.

Why was her mother so set against him? So what if he hadn’t been educated in a fancy school and didn’t have loads of money sitting in the bank. He was honest, and worked harder than most. He was who he was and he’d not be sorry for it.

Out of the blue, his old leg wound began to ache. He reached under the covers and pressed on his knee, remembering all he’d lived through. His life had had its ups and downs, but he’d always been in control of things. Except for now. This time, he couldn’t say the same.