“I don’t intend to discuss-”
“And that contraption you lace yourself into. Lucky you don’t pass out. Can’t figure you need it. Your waist’s no bigger around than my two hands. I ought to know.” He proved it by spanning her. “Why do you want to strap yourself into that thing?”
“I have no intention of discussing my undergarments with you.”
“I took them off you. Seems I should be able to talk about them.”
Blushing to the roots of her hair, she struggled away. “The bacon’s burning.”
He took his seat again and picked up his coffee.
“How many of those petticoats do you have on now?” After rescuing the bacon, she sent him a quick, flirtatious look over her shoulder. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself.” Pleased at the way his brows shot up, she went back to her cooking.
He was no longer certain how to handle her. With breakfast on the table, the scents wafting cozily in the air, and Sarah sitting across from him, Jake searched his mind for something to say.
“I saw your pictures on the wall. You draw real nice.”
“Thank you. I’ve always enjoyed it. If I’d known that my father was living here-that is, if I’d known how a few sketches would brighten the house up-I would have sent him some. I did send a small watercolor,” She frowned a little. “It was a self-portrait from last Christmas. I thought he might like to know what I looked like since I’d grown up. It’s strange. He had all the letters I’d written to him in that little tin box in the loft, but the sketch is nowhere to be found. I’ve been meaning to ask the sheriff if he might have forgotten to give it to me.”
“If Barker had it, he’d have seen you got it back.”
He didn’t care for the direction his thoughts were taking.
“You sure it got this far? Mail gets lost.”
“Oh, yes. He wrote me after he received it. Liza also mentioned that my father had been rather taken with it and had brought it into the store to show around.”
“Might turn up.”
“I suppose.” She shrugged. “I’ve given this place a thorough cleaning, but I might not have come across it. I’ll look again when Lucius puts in the floor.” “What floor?”
“The wooden floor. I’ve ordered boards.” She broke off a bite of biscuit. “Actually, I ordered extra. I have my heart set on a real bedroom. Out the west wall, I think. My sewing money’s coming in very handy.”
“Sarah, last night you said something about Carlotta telling you I’d given her some idea about having you sew for her.” He watched her stiffen up immediately. “When did you talk to her?”
“I didn’t. I have no intention of talking to that woman.”
He rolled his tongue into his cheek. He doubted Sarah would be pleased to know that her tone amused him. “Where did you hear that from?”
“Alice Johnson. She works in…that place. Apparently Carlotta had her drive out here to negotiate for my services.”
“Alice?” He cast his mind back, juggling faces with names. “She’s the little one-dark hair, big eyes?”
Sarah drew in a quiet, indignant breath. “That’s an accurate description. You seem to know the staff of the Silver Star very well.”
“I don’t know as I’d call them staff, but yeah, I know one from the other.”
Rising, she snatched up his empty plate. “And I’m sure they know you quite well.” When he just grinned, she had to fight back the urge to knock the look off his face with the cast-iron skillet. “I’ll thank you to stop smirking at me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” But he went right on. “You sure are pretty when you get fired up.”
“If that’s a compliment,” she said, wishing it didn’t make her want to smile, “you’re wasting your breath.”
“I ain’t much on compliments. But you’re pretty, and that’s a fact. I guess you’re about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Especially when you’re riled.”
“Is that why you continue to go out of your way to annoy me?”
“I expect. Come here.”
She smoothed down her skirt. “I will not.”
He rose slowly. “You’re ornery, too. Can’t figure why it appeals to me.” He dragged her to him. After a moment’s feigned struggle, she laughed up at him. “I’ll have to remember to stay ornery and annoyed, then.”
He said nothing. The way she’d looked up at him had knocked the breath out of his body. He pulled her closer, holding on, wishing. Content, Sarah nuzzled his shoulder. Before he could draw her back, she framed his face with her hands and brushed her lips over his.
“You’re still tying me up in knots,” he muttered.
“That’s good. I don’t intend to stop.”
He stepped back, then gripped her hands with his.
“Which one did he kiss?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Carlson.” She gave a surprised gasp when his fingers tightened on hers. “Which hand did he kiss?”
Sarah kept her eyes on his. “Both.”
She watched the fury come then, and was amazed at how quickly, how completely, he masked it. But it was still there. She could feel it rippling through him.
“Jake-”
He shook his head. Then, in a gesture that left her limp, he brought her hands to his lips. Then he dropped them, obviously uncomfortable, and dug his own hands into his pockets.
“I don’t want you to let him do it again.”
“I won’t.”
Her response should have relaxed him, but his tension doubled. “Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that.”
He turned away and began to pace. Her brow lifted. She realized she’d never before seen him make an unnecessary movement. If he took a step, it was to go toward or away.
“I’ve got no right.” There was fury in his voice. The same kind she heard outside the tent the night before. In contrast, hers was soft and soothing. “You have every right. The only right. I’m in love with you.”
Now he didn’t move at all. He froze as a man might when he heard a trigger cocked at the back of his head. She simply waited, her hands folded at her waist, her eyes calm and clear.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he managed at last.
“Of course I do, and so do you.” With her eyes on his, she walked to him. “Do you think I could have been with you as I was last night, this morning, if I didn’t love you?”
He stepped back before she could touch him. It had been so long since he’d been loved that he’d forgotten what it could feel like. It filled him like a river, and its currents were strong.
“I’ve got nothing for you, Sarah. Nothing.”
“Yourself.” She reached a hand to his cheek. “I’m not asking for anything.”
“You’re mixing up what happened last night with-”
“With what?” she challenged. “Do you think because you were the first man that I don’t know the difference between love and…lust? Can you tell me it’s been like that for you before, with anyone? Can you?”
No, he couldn’t. And he couldn’t tell her it would never be that way with anyone but her. “Lucius will be back soon,” he said instead. “I’ll go down and get the water you wanted before I leave.”
And that was all? she thought. Damn him for turning his back on her again. He didn’t believe her, she thought. He thought she was just being foolish and romantic… But no, no, that wasn’t right, she realized. That wasn’t it at all.
It came to her abruptly and with crystalline clarity. He did believe her, and that was why he had turned away. He was as frightened and confused by her love as she -had been by the land. It was just as foreign to him. Just as difficult to understand and accept. She could change that. Taking a long, cleansing breath, she turned to her dishes. She could change that in the same way she had changed herself. She embraced the land now, called it her own. One day he would do the same with her.
She heard the door open again, and she turned, smiling.
