'If you are only a dream,' he whispered, 'then dreams will be my only reality in this lifetime.'
Pulling off her cap, he moved his hands slowly over the rich wool of her dress. Her hair was the silk he remembered, and the curve of her waist was the perfection of which he'd dreamed. 'You'll not run away from me tonight, my dream. I need you too much.'
She didn't answer but only traced her fingers along the arc of his shoulders, as though she'd longed for the feel of him as dearly as he had for her.
Hunter pulled the ribbon binding her hair and buried his face in its fullness. 'Lord, how I need you.' He flung her cap over a pile of straw and eased her onto it. The smells blended in his mind with another time, when she'd held him and warmed him as death fought for his soul. He'd loved her then, from the moment she'd kissed his forehead with a prayer for his life.
In the silence of the midnight hour he lay beside her, slowly covering her face with kisses. As he reached the warm flesh of her throat his fingers unbuttoned her dress. The tiny pearl buttons gave way and he slid the wool aside to reveal the thin, silky cloth of her chemise. He spread his fingers wide, loving the warmth of her flesh, with only a light curtain of material between them. He'd always been a reasonable man, but the feel of her in his arms made him know the pure joy of madness for a moment.
He could feel her body move beneath his hand, straining for his touch. He lowered his face to her shoulders, pushing the material aside as he tasted her skin. There was so much that they might have said, but he was starving for her nearness. Touch would have to be his words, and passion the only language spoken between them. He wanted to make love to her more than he wanted life, but tonight he needed the feel of her next to him. He needed not to be alone for a few moments in a life where he seemed always alone.
She seemed to understand, for her hands moved over his shoulders and into his hair. Her fingers stroked his temple, then moved to trace his lips with a feather-light touch. He found himself whispering words of need he'd never told another.
Pressing her body against his, she answered his cry with kisses that knew no restraint. His mind whirled as he felt the beauty of her in his arms, a beauty so great that he knew he'd never find it in reality. He buried his face against her soft breast as his hand slid up her boot to touch the bare leg beneath her skirts. If this was the joy of dreams, the pleasure of insanity, may he never see reality again.
His angel jerked suddenly. 'Hunter!' she whispered in her soft Southern voice as she pulled his face close to her lips. 'There's someone outside!' He could feel the fear in her body as she curled away from him.
Hunter glanced toward the fence and saw the shadow of a man move in the moonlight. The same shadow he'd seen in Jennifer's garden, a lifetime of emotions ago. Hunter held her trembling hand. 'Do you know who he is?'
'I'm not sure,' she whispered. 'I must go!'
'No!' Hunter answered, but she pulled away and backed into the corner of the shed.
A twig snapped in the shadows and he heard her soft cry of fear. Hunter bolted toward the intruder, resenting this eavesdropping far more than he had earlier in the garden.
He ran toward the shadow. But when he reached the fence, the shadow had vanished. And when he returned to the barn, so had his angel.
Chapter 23
Molly's restaurant opened as Molly's Place during a downpour that should have spelled disaster for a first night, but the dining rooms were packed with the curious. The rumors that Molly was a reformed lady of the streets might have drawn some in, but the fine cooking kept them through course after course.
The room had been freshly polished and cleaned until the candlelight glowed off the wood and silver. The furnishings were simple, almost elegant, in design and the prices were fair. Each bolt of lightning from the storm seemed to bring yet another carriage up the drive.
Luke, now wearing a white shirt and dark suit, stood proudly as doorman. He opened the door and seated each guest with a silent dignity while keeping a sharp eye out for any ruffians.
At midnight, with the last guest departed, Molly, Luke, and Perry finally collapsed over a final cup of coffee in Perry's small office. After paying for the food and salaries of the cooks and waiters, there was still a tidy sum stacked atop the desk.
Luke beamed with pride. 'It was a good night. Most folks could barely waddle to their carriages.'
'Reminds me of my working days.' Laughter bubbled from Molly's tired body. 'No one left without being satisfied.'
The old woman never ceased to amaze Perry. 'But in this work you have less trouble with the law,' Perry added.
Molly winked. 'You're right. Plus, it did make me feel good to make a lot of folks happy instead of a few delirious.'
Luke's full-blown laughter blended with Molly's chuckles as Perry fought a blush. She busied herself putting bills in a leather-lined box she'd found when cleaning one of the rooms. Deciding it safest to change the subject, she added, 'I'll put the money here for tonight, but if we make this much every night, we will need a strongbox.'
'There's one in the cellar,' Molly said, yawning. 'It's a big old rusty box I've been pushing out of my way ever' time I store food.'
'We'll bring it up tomorrow and find a place for it,' Perry answered.
'There's a drawer in Old Henry's room with several keys. In the morning I'll see if one fits the box, but right now I'm taking these tired bones to bed. This honest work's hard on a body.' Molly stood and moved toward the door connecting her bedroom with the office. Though she'd moved her things into the room over a week ago, she still called it Old Henry's Room, as if he might return from the dead and have need of it. Molly talked about Old Henry so much, Perry sometimes felt he was a third partner.
Luke also stood. 'I'll check around and lock everything up before I go for a little walk. 'He paused at the door before nodding respectfully. ' 'Night, Miss Perry.'
Perry smiled up at Luke as he withdrew. He'd proven far better help than she'd ever hoped. He was a large, gentle sort of man with a big heart that overflowed when he was shown any kindness. He'd never asked any questions about their meeting during the war, but Perry knew he'd pieced most of the puzzle together. Luke was always near, except when he would ask to go out walking for a few hours. She could smell liquor on his breath when he returned, but true to his word, he was never drunk.
Closing her ledger book, she walked to her bedroom. She was glad she'd been so busy, for she'd had little time to think of Hunter today. As she undressed, she let her mind wander to him and the way he'd touched her in the darkness of the barn. What would have happened if she hadn't been frightened by the man outside? Why had Hunter's words of need melted her heart so completely? He was a man who had everything-money, power, adventure. Why would he cling to her like a dying man to one last hope?
'Tomorrow he'll be married,' she said aloud as she circled the room. 'All my life I'll think of him, and he doesn't even know who I am.'
She undressed slowly, staring at the impersonal room that had become her home. The cold rain pounded against her windows, pressing a chill into the room that not even the mahogany furniture could dispel. In front of the warm fire sat a small tub, half filled with water. Since she'd moved upstairs, Molly and Luke had seen she had a fresh bath every night. Though they both worried that so much bathing might weaken her health, they'd given into her wishes; both pampering her like two maiden aunts. A huge kettle bubbled on the hearth. She poured the steaming water into the tub, letting the hot moisture caress her face with its warmth.
As she sank into the steamy water her muscles relaxed for the first time since the doors downstairs had opened for business. Reaching, she wound a small music box Molly had found while cleaning. As the charming lullaby drifted around the room she closed her eyes, remembering another cold, rainy night a month ago. Hunter's arms had encircled her as they waited beneath a tree for Abram to return. She could almost feel his hard frame molded along her back. From the depth of her being she knew he was thinking of her at this moment, just as she was dreaming of him.
Hunter spent a sleepless night thinking of the woman he'd held in the darkness. She'd been heaven in his arms
