Liz Ireland (17 page)

Women, on the other hand, when faced with undeniable facts, seemed never to grasp the folly of their own hearts.

“I hate him!” Paulie exclaimed, setting down the pot with a crash of metal against metal. She looked into the stove and heaped a few more chunks of wood onto the fire, which didn’t feel nearly as hot as she did inside. “I only wish Iris had better aim! I should have gone back to Possum Trot with Trip, and left that low-down snake in the clutches of Mary Ann. She wouldn’t have raised a finger
to make sure he was warm enough, or was sleeping comfortably. She—”

Maudie cut her off. “What are you doing?” she asked, her brow wrinkling.

Paulie looked down at the kettle. “Heating some broth for Will.”

The woman smiled. “Should you be going to such pains for someone you hate?”

Paulie tapped her foot impatiently. “It’s not just for him,” she muttered. “I could use some myself, too.”

“I can’t imagine what he said to make you so angry so fast.”

Paulie brayed with outrage. “What
didn’t
he say? The man lobbed so many insults at me I couldn’t keep up with him!”

“About your appearance?”

She got angry all over again just thinking about it. “He told me I looked like a chicken in peacock feathers—and that I should just go back to wearing pants because no man in his right mind would find me attractive.”

Actually he
hadn’t
said that last bit, but the meaning had been implied. At least in Paulie’s mind. He had looked at her with such horror and ridicule, it had been worse than the time when she’d dressed up in her mother’s wedding dress, even. Maybe because back then she hadn’t acknowledged the fact that she was in love with him. That bitter fact burned in her mind now. How could she have lost her heart to such a mean, insulting creature!

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” she said, waiting impatiently for the broth to heat. “He and Mary Ann belong together.”

Maudie shook her head, chuckling. “My dear, you’re just not thinking like a woman.”

“Good!” she cried. “I can’t wait to get back home. Back there I did just fine thinking like a saloon keeper.”

“You’ll never win Will that way.”

She harrumphed decisively. “He’s no prize.”

“You’re taking his insults the wrong way,” Maudie lectured. “You’re forgetting that men tend to be backwards creatures. The male mind is an ornery thing.”

“I’ll say!” Paulie cried, pulling the pot off the stove, ready or not. She splashed hot broth into the bowl waiting on the table. “If Will wants Mary Ann so much, why doesn’t he just say so instead of blathering on about duty and getting my hopes up with meaningless kisses and…”

Her words trailed off at the same moment that mortification filled her. She couldn’t believe that she’d just blurted out that Will had kissed her! What would Maudie think?

By the arch of her brows, she could tell the woman thought this tidbit of news was interesting in the extreme. “He doesn’t want Mary Ann,” Maudie said emphatically.

Paulie, pouring a cup of broth for herself, spilled the brown liquid down the front of her dress. She jumped back, both in reaction to the hot liquid and horror at possibly ruining Abra Worthington’s beautiful dress. “Oh, no!” she cried.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll show you how to remove a stain like that. Simplest thing in the world.”

Paulie felt like crying. Dress or no dress, she was as awkward and clumsy as ever. “Will might not love Mary Ann, but he certainly has no feelings for me.”

“There’s where you’re wrong,” Mrs. Worthington said. “And I’ll prove it to you.”

“How?”

“All you have to do is take that broth up to him, and do exactly as I say.”

Paulie wasn’t quite ready to face Will again. She lowered
her eyes to her lap and discovered the perfect excuse. “I’ll have to change clothes, and I’ll be switched if I’m gonna let him think I changed back into my britches on his account!”

“You won’t be wearing your pants.”

“I won’t?”

Maudie shook her head. “For one thing, I’m cleaning them. For another, I’ve got another dress picked out for you that will serve our purpose quite nicely.”

Paulie tilted her head skeptically. “And then what am I supposed to do?”

“Nothing that you haven’t done before, apparently. Just let him kiss you.”

Paulie nearly jumped out of her skin. Surely she hadn’t heard correctly! “Why should I let that varmint touch me?” she cried. Then, realizing how absurdly presumptuous she must sound, she added, “Not that he’d want to.”

A knowing little smile touched the older woman’s lips. “Ah, but I’m going to prove that kissing you is exactly what Will Brockett wants to do.”

Will glanced up and felt his mouth drop open in astonishment. Paulie, looking radiant in a mauve dress that was every bit as shapely as the other one but ten times more revealing, stood in the doorway holding a tray and smiling at him.

He hadn’t known what to expect. Truly, after his performance earlier, he hadn’t thought Paulie would pay him a visit anytime soon. After his scathing review of her appearance, he assumed she would have changed into her old clothes—not yet another, and more revealing, dress. Her hair was the same, only this time his gaze wasn’t drawn to her face. Instead, the cut of the dress drew his eyes to its low, scalloped neckline, and the way it fit snugly over the
hips before the skirt flared out. What surprised him most was how at ease she appeared, how naturally the material seemed to suit her. A week ago he couldn’t have imagined Paulie in such a creation. Now he wondered if he would ever shake the image out of his head.

She swept regally into the room. “Sorry I stayed away so long,” she said. “I forgot that I had promised you some hot broth.”

Will licked his lips, and his eyes reluctantly jumped from the creamy white of the skin of Paulie’s breasts to the aged white of the china. Food! The thought made his stomach grumble in anticipation, and yet his eyes strayed from the broth to the perfect redness of Paulie’s lips. The pink tones of the dress brought out her natural healthy color.

She set the tray down on the table next to the bed, then reached out to him. “Here, let me prop you up.” She gently lifted him by his good shoulder and wedged several plump pillows behind his back until he was nearly upright. “We don’t want you to get woozy.”

But he was almost woozy just from the nearness of her, and that perfume she was wearing. She must have sprayed some more on when she changed clothes. He almost panicked when he saw her turn to walk toward the door again. He didn’t want her to leave.

“Wait!”

She turned, arching a brow at him questioningly.

“Aren’t you going to stay and feed me?” he asked. “I, uh, don’t think I can manage myself.”

She smiled. “I’m sorry, I should have thought of that.”

“No need to apologize,” he said. “In fact, I guess it’s I who should be apologizing to you. I was awfully cranky a little while ago. I said some things I regret.”

She tilted her head. “Like what?” she asked, all innocence.

He hesitated, not quite trusting that this wasn’t a trap. In the old days, just mentioning names he had called her would rile her up all over again. “I shouldn’t have compared you to a chicken,” he said, testing the words gingerly.

She laughed. “Apology accepted. But don’t expect me to say I’m sorry, too. I still think you’re a varmint.” She lifted a spoonful of broth to his lips. “Why, I was so mad at you that I spilled broth down my other dress and had to put this one on. You like it?”

Will swallowed. The broth quelled his hunger immediately, but there was another niggling ache building inside him, one that grew stronger when Paulie leaned closer to him to give him another spoonful of nourishment.

“It’s very beautiful,” he managed.

She smiled, and for the first time he noticed what white even teeth she had. What a pretty mouth. What very kissable lips. But of course, he’d discovered that twice before. And he had regretted kissing her both times. He attempted to look away as another spoonful of broth came toward his mouth.

“Yes, I certainly was steamed,” she chattered on. “I called you all sorts of terrible things to Maudie!”

He moaned. “She must not think much of me.”

“Nonsense. She likes you very much. She even said you were handsome.” Paulie laughed. “We had a big argument about it.”

Will opened his mouth, only to have a spoonful of broth slopped in, drowning out his question. He choked it down and sat up a little straighter. “If Maudie was saying I was handsome, what were you saying?”

She lifted her shoulders, and he noticed how chiseled her neckline seemed. How pertly her head rested on those
strong but delicate shoulders. “Just that you were nothing too special.”

He felt his jaw tighten. “You think I’m just an ordinarylooking fellow, do you?”

“Well, certainly.” She smiled teasingly. “What do you think?”

He turned his head away stubbornly when she offered him more broth. “I suppose
you’re
only attracted to older men. Like Trip.”

“Trip
is
handsome,” she allowed. “But I’m not incapable of appreciating good looks, young or old.”

He couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation with Paulie at all, much less that he was coming out so badly. “I haven’t heard any complaints from other women,” he said, hating how vain he sounded, yet unable to help himself.

She laughed again. “Well, I suppose it’s just my unworldliness talking. I just sort of go by instinct, you know. Some men attract me, some men don’t.” She lifted the spoon again. “More broth?”

“No,” he said, clamping his mouth shut.

“Well, there’s no reason to be petulant, Will. Lord knows you’ve got plenty of admirers.”

He cocked his head. “Who?”

She thought for a moment. A long moment. Too long. “Well, for instance…” She stopped to think, as if dredging a name from some deep recess of her memory. “Oh! There’s Tunia!”

Will drew a blank. “Tunia?”

“Petunia Sweeney, over in Cobb City.”

Good Lord! “Petunia the Tuna?”

Paulie rolled her eyes. “Children are so mean! No one’s called her that for years, Will. Her family bought a bathtub
over at Dwight’s back in eighty-one, and now lots of men even say she’s a good partner for dancing.”

If Petunia Sweeney was his one admirer, he was in trouble. “’Course, I’m not around as much as I used to be,” he said, giving an explanation for this deficit of females swooning over him.

“And that most likely explains it,” Paulie said, misunderstanding. “Tunia probably still remembers how you looked a couple of years ago.”

Wait a second. He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you can’t doubt that several trips to Kansas and back can…weather a man.”

Weather!
“You’re a fine one to talk!” he argued. “You’re half gone for a man whose face looks like old boot leather!”

“That’s not a very nice way to talk about a friend,” Paulie said.

Will beat his fist lightly against the covers. “Some friend! I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since my brush with death.”

Paulie clucked her tongue. “My, my. You are feeling sorry for yourself, aren’t you?”

He reddened. “Well, where is he? What have you two been doing all day?”

She laughed at him. “For your information, Trip went back to Possum Trot.”

Will perked up at this news. “Did you send him back there?”

“Yes I did.”

Suddenly, he felt hearty enough to do a little jig. “Why?”

“To fetch the Breens.”

This news was almost too good to be true. Someone
would be arriving soon to take the Mary Ann problem out of his hands. “Paulie, you
are
an angel!”

She looked at him skeptically. “You’re talking off your head.”

He laughed and took a closer look at Paulie. She’d sent Trip away—and back to the same town Tessie lived. All this dressing up wasn’t for Trip’s benefit, then. And since there was no other man in the house…

A slow, lazy smile spread across his lips, and he reached out and grabbed her with his good arm. Paulie stiffened, and looked at him with guarded eyes.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I was just thinking about what we were talking about earlier.”

She swallowed, and he saw that a flush heated her neck, bared by her low-cut dress. “Wh-what was that?”

“About your not being attracted to me.”

“Oh.” She swallowed again. “Well, I suppose if we’re going to start repeating ourselves, I’d do just as well to take the tray back down…”

He held fast to her. “I was thinking about when I kissed you.”

Her green eyes looked down at him sharply. “You were?”

He nodded. “You didn’t seem so unattracted to me then.”

She attempted a nonchalant shrug, but he could feel the tightening in her body, and felt his own coiling in response.

“Maybe your instincts aren’t as clear-cut as you seem to think they are.”

“Nonsense!” Paulie cried, her voice hoarse from tension. “I suppose I know my own mind. Besides, that first time we kissed you were only providing a little demonstration.
It would be hard for a girl to be carried away by a kissing lesson.”

“And the second time?”

She tugged at her arm. “This is silly! I really should be going….”

He nodded. “All right, but first I propose a little experiment.”

She eyed him warily. “What kind of experiment?”

“I’ll kiss you, and if you don’t show any sign of appreciation, I’ll have to accept your word that you’re simply not attracted to me.”

“That doesn’t sound very scientific.”

“Oh, but it would be. We’d have three instances to judge by. If two out of three are tepid responses, then I’ll know I should go straight to Cobb City from here and propose to Tunia Sweeney.”

She laughed. “Oh, all right,” she said, almost gritting her teeth as she said the words. “I suppose it can’t hurt…as long as it’s just an experiment.”

“Just an experiment,” he repeated.

He tugged her toward him, not at all sure kissing her was wise, but certain it was irresistible. Her lips touched his lightly at first, tentatively. He held his breath, waiting, then realized she was too. Her whole body was tensed, waiting. Defensive. Prepared not to show the slightest response to his touch.