Deborah Camp (17 page)

“Three and a half,” Theo drawled, his tone heavy with boredom.

Stu narrowed his eyes, clearly irked by the challenge.

“We’ve got a bid of three and a half,” Danforth reminded them. “Three and a half. Any takers? Any uppers?”

“Four!” Stu folded his arms across his chest and
glared at his challenger above the heads of the quiet onlookers.

Slowly, meticulously, Theo cut a wedge of apple and held it against the blade of his knife with his thumb. He raised it to his mouth, a smile summoning the dimples in his lean cheeks, and looked directly at Stu.

“Gentleman, we have a four-dollar bid,” Danforth announced with purposeful drama. “Four dollars once, and twice, and—”

Theo opened his mouth, and Regina held her breath, but he only pushed another wedge of apple between his lips. A collective gush of released breath among the onlookers seemed to rustle the leaves.

“Sold to Sheriff Stu,” Danforth said, waving a finger in the air and then bringing it down to point at the sheriff. “Here you go.” He handed the basket to Stu.

Bitsy linked her arm in Stu’s and smiled up into his face. “Hope you think it’s worth it.”

“I do,” Stu answered without hesitation. “I would have paid more if I’d had to.”

“Really?” Bitsy batted her lashes, nonplussing Stu so much that he had to look away.

“… and this one is prepared by—Miss Regina Rose,” Danforth proclaimed, holding aloft the basket Regina had fretted over for days. “It’s packed with the finest of fine, gentlemen. Chicken salad … hmmm-hmmm, it sure smells delicious. What is the first bid?”

“Two bits,” Stu said.

“My, my,” Danforth chanted, eyebrows wiggling. “The sheriff sure has an appetite!”

Laughter floated through the crowd and Regina ducked her head, feeling conspicuous.

“We’ve got a bid,” Danforth called. “Who will raise it?”

“One dollar,” Theo said, and Regina gritted her teeth.

“Dollar and a half,” Stu yelled, staying in the hunt.

All gazes swung to Theo. Anticipation hung in the air like a shimmering sun.

“Ten dollars,” Theo said, then popped another apple wedge into his mouth.

Stu’s jaw hardened, but when he looked at Regina she could see regret dimming his eyes. The townspeople murmured, excited and shocked by the bidding. Ten dollars was a month’s pay for some folks. Stu shrugged, and Regina smiled, showing him she understood that the best-laid plans had been destroyed by arrogance.

“Ten dollars!” Danforth slammed one fist into his other hand. “Sold to Mr. Dane! And what a show of generosity and community spirit! Come on, folks, let’s give him a round of applause for ending the bidding in such fine fashion.”

The applause was brief but thunderous. Theo barely acknowledged it. He put the last wedge of apple into his mouth, wiped the blade of his knife on his trouser leg, closed the knife, and shoved it into his back pocket. When he caught Regina’s frosty glare again, he smiled lazily, insolently, then he slipped off the branch and landed on the grass like a big, dangerous cat. He moved with a loose-jointed grace to the flatbed and collected Regina’s basket. She boiled with embarrassment. She felt as if everyone was staring at her, wondering about the bid and what it meant. They’d all reach one of two conclusions—that he’d bought the basket
and
her, or that he was sweet on her.

Turning, he grinned crookedly and curled a finger to beckon her. Regina had no choice but to go to him while practically the whole town snickered and conjectured. She knew that her face was
aflame. She knew that her stride was unsteady. And she knew that her public humiliation would cost Theodore Dane a damn sight more than ten silver dollars.

T
heo paid her for the basket and selected a picnic site in a secluded bend of the river. He spread the patchwork quilt over the soft, high grass and set the basket in the center of it.

Regina tried to grapple with her feelings toward him, irritated that she could find him attractive and be so angry at him, all at the same time. She glanced around, wondering if anyone was spying on them. She wouldn’t doubt it. The whole town knew she’d gone to the cotillion with Sheriff Stu and now they had witnessed Theodore Dane pay an unprecedented price for her picnic basket and her company. They must all think her an outrageous flirt. She cringed. What would Mrs. Nation say if the gossip reached her?

From the corner of her eye, she observed Theo as he swatted lazily at a bee floating too near his nose. His half-lidded gaze moved over her as if sizing her up before he pounced. A traitorous thrill raced through her and she had to remind herself that he’d placed her in a precarious position. She’d come to this community affair to gain respect and understanding, but thanks to Theo Dane she was a source of gossip and disfavor.

“I hope you know that you made a fool of yourself back there,” Regina said. “And you embarrassed
the life out of me. I won’t be able to hold my head up in town for months.”

One side of his mouth curled up in an insulting smile. “You’ll get over it,” he drawled, and reached out a hand to help her sit on the quilt. He reclined on his side and propped his head in his hand. “I like those ribbons you’re wearing, Mistress Rosy. Puts me in a mind to unwrap you.”

“You can dash that fool notion from your mind this instant, Mr. Dane.” She puckered her mouth into a bud of discontent, but found it increasingly difficult to maintain her ire. His twinkling eyes and attractive, lopsided grin bedeviled her. She folded her arms at her waist and tipped her nose in the air. “I’ll have you know that I had an arrangement with Stu. He was supposed to buy my basket.”

“He bought Bitsy’s.”

“Yes, and he had enough money to buy mine, too, until you stuck your nose into it.”

“It worked out better this way.”

“Only for you.”

“No, for Stu and Bitsy, too. Three’s a crowd, Regina. They’d much rather not have you at their picnic.”

She busied herself with the basket of food and hated him for being right. “Your bid was outlandish. People will think you’re a show-off.”

“And that you have more than one man chasing after you,” he tacked on, laughing at her smoking glare. “Let them,” he challenged, peeking into the basket. “Something smells good in there.”

“Blueberry turnovers,” she said, almost snapping, then she had to fight to keep the smile off her face when he fell flat on his back in a swoon. Regina glanced around, hoping no one was about. “Stop acting crazy. You might not give a fig for your reputation, but I value mine.”

“What else you got in there, Mistress Rosy?”

“Chicken salad sandwiches, pickle relish, potato salad, and lemonade.” She pulled each from the basket and arranged the meal on the quilt. “There is certainly nothing here worth ten dollars.”

“I wasn’t buying the food.”

“What then? The basket?”

“You.”

She threw a paper-wrapped sandwich at him. “I cost a lot more than ten measly dollars, sir. Put that in your mouth so that I won’t have to hear you anymore. Let’s just get this over with.”

He drew his brows together. “That’s a piss-poor attitude, Mistress Rosy.”

“And stop calling me that, and don’t say such words to me.”

“Hell’s afire!” He grinned mischievously. “Is that better? You use that particular expression yourself.”

“A slip of the tongue.” She stuck a spoon in the small bowl of potato salad and handed it to him. “Here.”

“You don’t want any?”

She shook her head. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

He bit into the sandwich. “Ummm, good.” After a few moments, he dabbed at the corners of his wide mouth with a linen napkin. “When was the last time you had yourself a real beau?”

“None of your business.”

“Bet it was before you came here.”

“Sheriff Stu has been courting me.”

“Yes, but he’s also been courting others. Bitsy, for one. A starry-eyed beau. When was the last time you had one of those?”

“I don’t want to discuss this with you.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You have the look of a woman in need of some serious courting.” He wiggled one eyebrow. “That mouth of yours ought
to pucker for something else besides sour thoughts. It’s such a sweet mouth. Tastes sweet, too, if I remember right.”

“Eat, will you? Just eat. I want to end this as soon as possible and rejoin my friends.”

“Why are you so fired up, Regina? All I did was buy your basket.”

Regina removed her bonnet and sat quietly, refusing to be bullied into further conversation. The river whispered past while she tried to ignore Theodore Dane, but she noticed that he ate with gusto and made sounds of pleasure from time to time. She accepted a glass of lemonade, but no food. Her stomach felt unsettled and she knew it was from her frazzled nerves. She thought of the townspeople gossiping about her and Theodore, and she wanted to scream. She delivered a sharp glare, wanting to make Theo as uncomfortable as he made her.

“The money you gave me will be used against you. I intend to donate it to Mrs. Nation’s legal fund.”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eventually get it back. I’ll win the case for Wilson, and Mrs. Nation will have to pay damages, and Wilson will pay me for my services. What goes around, comes around.” He bit into one of the blueberry turnovers she’d spent an hour preparing. His eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh, sweetheart, this is so good I think I’m going to cry.”

Regina averted her face so that he couldn’t see her pleased smile. He was the most infuriatingly charming man she’d ever had the misfortune of knowing.

“A beautiful woman who cooks better than my mama. Will wonders never cease?”

“
You
have a mother?” she said, her tone drenched in sarcasm.

Instead of being insulted, he laughed. “I surely do. I had a father once, too.” His smile faded. “Better be careful, Regina. We don’t want to start talking about families, do we? I might catch you in another lie.”

“Lie? I’ve never—” She stopped and felt her face grow hot with shame.

“Yes. You lied to me about Lu Beck being your sister-in-law.”

She shook her head. “I just never mentioned it. It wasn’t any of your business.”

“Are you ashamed of Mrs. Beck and her daughter?”

“Certainly not!”

“Maybe you wish they had stayed with your half brother and then he wouldn’t have come here bothering you.”

“I’m not ashamed of … of Lu or Annie. My shame is for myself and Jack.” She stared at a cloud overhead and waited until her spasm of self-pity spent itself. “All my life I’ve hidden the truth about my family. It’s become habit. But I’m proud of Lu and Annie.”

“Did your father drink?”

“No. Just my mother.” She was surprised that it was still so hard to say that aloud. “Mama warned us never to tell about her drinking or someone would take us and put us in an orphanage. Mama said they’d throw her in an asylum. We were terrified of that so we kept her secret. Our secret.” She shrugged. “And life’s lessons are hard to abandon, I suppose.”

“Why did you think you’d be put in an orphanage? Where was your father?”

“Oh, he’s dead now, but he left us years and years ago when I was a child. He couldn’t stop Mama from drinking and he couldn’t live with a drunk, so he left.”

“He left.” Theo shook his head. “He left you to be raised by a woman with a problem.”

“Yes.” She shrugged, uncomfortable with this delving into her past. “He sent money from time to time. Sometimes he wrote Mama, but she never read the letters aloud. She always burned them. I sometimes wondered if he asked about us.” Her thoughts drifted back to those childhood days when she had missed her father so much that she had cried herself to sleep night after night. Finally, she had decided that hating him for leaving was easier than loving his memory. It hurt less.

“Do you have any other brothers or sisters?”

“No, do you?” She eyed him with open irritation. “I don’t want to talk about my family. If you’ve finished your meal, I’d like to join the others.”

“Don’t be such a priss, Regina. Why have you decided all of a sudden that you don’t like me?”

“You know why. I don’t feel comfortable socializing with the man who is bound and determined to ruin the person I admire most in this world.”

“It’s more than that.”

She sighed, pretending boredom, and began gathering the remains of the meal.

Theo leaned closer. “You’re uncomfortable around me because I make your heart race like a Thoroughbred.”

Her laughter sounded high and harsh and full of fakery. “I’m uncomfortable around you because you spend your free time in saloons drinking whiskey and playing poker and sporting with soiled women. Believe me, if I wanted a beau, I could do better than you.”

“Oh.” Something dangerous darkened his eyes. “So, you think you’re too good for me?”

No. Never
. The words burned on her tongue, but she decided he shouldn’t hear them. Let him think
the worst of you, another voice counseled, and he might leave you be. She forced herself to tell him what her heart rejected. “Perhaps. I don’t want the town thinking I’d consort with a man of questionable morals.” She felt sick with self-loathing when a hint of pain entered his eyes, but then he shook it off. She could tell by his smirk that he didn’t believe a word of what she’d said and she was glad.

“That’s a lie.” He rose to his knees and grasped her upper arms, lifting her until she was almost eye-to-eye with him. “You know it’s a lie.” He narrowed his eyes to smoking slits. “You do love your little secrets, don’t you, Regina?”

She glanced left, right, and worried that someone might see them.

“That’s right, look around like a frightened rabbit. You’re always looking over your shoulder, aren’t you? Afraid your past might be catching up?”

“Let go.” She tried to remain calm. “I’ve been manhandled enough lately, thank you.”

His grip eased and the tip of his tongue swept across his lips. “How about some dessert?”

Suspicion swam through her. “You had dessert.”

“I want more. I want to see fire in your eyes. I want to see your heart flutter against your throat. I want … you.”