Boot Hill Bride (23 page)

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Authors: Lauri Robinson

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air, he paused on the landing to catch his breath. Dang it, all

he had done was told her to get out of that hole. Hell,

anything could have happened to her down there. Snake

should have known better than to ask her to do something

like that. And he'd better never do it again. No one had, he

made certain of that, he'd told them all she wasn't allowed to

help at the hotel, at all.

"Geez, Hog. I would have helped you carry that. Those

rugs are as heavy as a load of bricks." Bug walked out of one

of the rooms at the end of the hall, striding toward him. "Let

me help, what room are you going to?"

"I got it," he grumbled.

Bug paused, his face flashed confusion for a moment.

"Which room?"

Howard nodded toward the closest room. All of a sudden

the rug had become extremely heavy. Bug leaped forward,

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opened the door, and stood aside for Howard to carry in the

load.

He dropped it onto the pile of several others, and then

bent forward. Pressing both hands to his knees, he drew in

several long breaths, wishing he could gain control of his

heart as easily as he could his breathing.

"You carried all of those up here?" Bug asked, pointing at

the mountain of rolled rugs.

"Yes," he huffed.

"Why?"

He straightened. "Because they're the rugs for the rooms

on this floor."

Bug nodded. "I know, but they didn't all need to be carried

up right now, did they?"

Howard glanced to the rugs. He'd wanted something

physical to do, needed to burn off his annoyance. Hefting the

huge rugs up the stairs seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Yes, they did," he said, trying to convince himself as

much as his brother.

Bug rubbed a hand over his chin. Though the youngest of

the five brothers was now twenty-one, Bug had that pretty

little-boy appearance and didn't look much over sixteen.

"I see," Bug said.

Howard glared. "You see what?"

"You and Randi had a tiff, did ya?"

"No, we didn't have
a tiff
."

"That's not what Snake says."

"Ya, well Snake better keep his trap shut if he knows

what's good for him."

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Bug sat down on the heap of rugs and patted the space

beside him. "Have a seat."

Howard frowned. Who did Bug think he was? He wasn't

about to sit down and listen to what the little snap had to say.

He moved over to stand by one of the framed in window

spaces, hoped the breeze would cool his sweating body.

Bug patted the rugs again. "Come on, have a seat."

Not the faintest breeze entered. Where was the wind

Kansas was so known for when he needed it? Howard ran a

hand over the back of his neck, where the muscles were

stiffening from the strain of carrying so much. A brief rest

couldn't hurt. He moved across the room and plopped down

beside his brother.

Still miffed, he bluntly said, "We didn't have a tiff."

Bug bobbed his head up and down several times. After a

few stilled moments, he said, "These are nice rugs. Gonna

look real fetchin'."

"Yeah," Howard mumbled.

"I got the last of the closet doors installed." Bug let out a

low whistle. "Built in closets in every room. Folks ain't gonna

know what to think when they see them. You really think Lila

knows what's she talking about?" He waved a hand about the

hotel room. "Built in closets, a private bathing station in each

room," he turned, lifted an eyebrow, "room service?"

Howard shrugged. "I believe her. They all sound like things

people may want while staying at a luxury hotel."

"She's probably right. Women usually are. Guess it's

instinct or something. Men are the hot headed ones. We

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spout off without thinking, just jump into action. Where as

women, they're always thinking."

A shower of cold rain couldn't have been more awakening.

Howard took a deep breath.

"Are you saying Randi's right, too? That I was just

spouting off?"

Bug stood up. "I ain't saying nothing. But I'll tell you Randi

carried an armload of clothes up to your rooms a short time

ago. And Ma said the two of you are going out to have supper

in town tonight."

"Shit!" Howard leaped to his feet. "I forgot. What time is

it?"

Bug pulled a watch out of his front pocket. "A little after

six."

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Thirteen

Howard eased the door off the hallway open and peeked

around the edge before stepping into the empty sitting room.

Closing the door behind him, he turned to slip into the

bathing chamber.

"Howard?"

One foot stalled mid-air at the sound of his name. She was

in the bedroom, the tone of her voice was light, not laced with

anger as it had been before—after he'd thrust her out of the

hole. A heavy sigh left his chest. Had he heard the tone right,

or was it just wishful thinking? He lowered the foot to the

floor and quivering like a kid in trouble, walked to the

doorway.

As earlier, she sat at the little table, this time she poked

pins into the back of her hair. He moved farther in so he could

peer in the mirror. He loved the way she made her hair billow

out from her face and situated tiny curls to hang down at her

temples and in front of each ear.

His heart stopped as their gazes met. One corner of her

lips barely inched upwards.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," he croaked, unable to swallow the frog in his

throat.

"I laid clean clothes in the bathroom. That is if you still

want to go." She lowered her arms and twisted about to look

at him.

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"Yeah, sure," he answered, a touch apprehensive. "If you

still want to go."

"I do."

"All right." He pointed to his shirt. "I'll go get cleaned up."

She stood, and every muscle in his big frame pulled tight.

The gown she wore fit her like an old glove, so snug every

curve of her body was highlighted. The raven-black material

had tiny silver stitches running along a very low neckline,

drawing his eyes directly to her cleavage. The firm mounds

popped out of the material as if they wanted to play a game

of hide and seek with him.

He gulped. "Y-you look incredible." The word was inferior,

didn't begin to describe how beautiful she looked, but it was

the only one his fumbling mind could come up with. She must

have liked it because a faint pink blush lit up her cheeks.

"Thank you." She stepped closer, and her sweet unique

scent, which always reminded him of vanilla, filled his nose.

"About this afternoon," she started, lowering her dark lashes.

"I—I'm sorry. I-I over reacted."

Repent flooded his system, made him feel lower than an

ant. "No. It was my fault. I'm sorry, I—uh spouted off without

thinking." Bug's words seemed a fitting explanation. She was

close enough to wrap his arms around, but he couldn't, sweat

still trickled under his arms. He held up both hands and took

a step back.

"I gotta get cleaned up, or we'll be late."

Her top teeth bit her bottom lip so hard the area turned

white, and her gaze held a touch of uncertainty. She dipped

her head.

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"Of course."

He couldn't resist and leaned forward to brush a kiss to her

forehead.

"I won't be long, I promise."

Less than fifteen minutes later, he, too, decided running

water was a remarkable discovery. After buttoning the tan

silk vest with tiny brown diamond shapes weaved in the

material, he grabbed the jacket hanging on the hook on the

back of the door and left the room.

"Randi? Randi? Where did these new clothes come from?"

She twisted her elegant neck to gaze at him from where

she sat on the settee in the front room. The sight had the

ability to puff his chest with stalled air. He'd thought of how

she'd look, sitting in the middle of this room while he built it,

but the real sight was even more charming than when he'd

imagined it. She was as well-designed as her surroundings—a

queen in a royal court.

"Does it fit?" she asked.

"Uh?" It took his wandering mind a moment to register

what she asked. "Yes." He slid his arms in the black, silk-lined

jacket. "Yes, they fit. Where'd they come from?"

"Your mother made them. She was going to wait until the

grand opening to give them to us, but decided we should

wear them tonight." With both hands, she lifted her alluring

skirt, stood, and then walked around the furniture, meeting

him in the middle of the room. Her fingers immediately went

to his tie, deftly tied it into a knot—without choking him, a

feat in itself.

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"Turn around," she said. "I told her I'd inspect it, make

sure it fits perfectly."

He did as instructed, feeling a bit foolish having a woman

scrutinize him so.

"It's fine," he said, stopping so they once again faced each

other. "Did she make yours, too?"

"Yes, isn't she talented?" She hitched her skirt off the floor

and twirled around so quickly he barely caught sight of the

dress.

He took her shoulders. "Do that again, but slower, let me

inspect your dress."

Her smile hit his heart like a bullet. Slowly, she turned,

whipping her head about so their eyes met for most of the

time.

When she stopped, once again facing him, she asked, "So,

what do you think?"

"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

He couldn't wait any longer, not without dying leastwise.

Without further ado he lowered his head and covered her lips

with a smoldering kiss.

He'd much rather stay here, in their apartment, and slowly

uncover the beautiful body beneath the attractive black dress,

but knowing they couldn't, he raised his face, easing out of

the kiss with several small pecks.

Randi sighed, a sound that made his groin quiver, and

rested her head against his chest.

"Do we have to go?" she asked, breathlessly.

He chuckled, stepped back to lift her chin and gaze into

her majestic eyes. That's it, he thought, the name of their

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hotel flashed across his mind, The Majestic. His chest filled

with pride.

"Yes, my dear wife, we have to go. A few minutes ago you

said you wanted to."

"I know, but that was before you kissed me."

Her eyes shimmered with such promise that he truly

considered changing their plans.

"We'll leave early," he declared, brushing one more kiss

over her lips.

The Dodge House was nice, but with black and white

checkered tablecloths and heavy dull stoneware dishes, it

held none of the elegance Howard's—no their—hotel would

possess. Then again, maybe it was her. While walking to the

restaurant Randi silently tried to boost her courage, ready

herself to tell her father he wouldn't be receiving a donation

from her husband—not if she had anything to say about it

anyway. But the minute she'd seen her father and Belinda

across the crowded room, her throat locked up tighter than if

she'd eaten a batch of poison berries, and her toes began to

tremble.

Randi smoothed the red plaid napkin lying on her lap and

snuck a peek at her husband sitting beside her. Dashing,

downright amazingly handsome in his impeccable new suit,

there wasn't a man in all of Dodge who could compete with

his attractiveness. Probably not one in all of Kansas, or the

world for that matter, and the knowledge made her body

sizzle, especially since he was hers—all hers. A touch of

fortitude returned.

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The Majestic. During their walk to the Dodge House,

Howard had asked what she thought of the name for their

hotel, and she'd quickly agreed. She loved it. The name not

only described the hotel, it described him, and her life of late.

She didn't attempt to quell the smile forming on her face,

there really was no use. She was just too happy and literally

bubbling with joy that not even her stepmother could lessen

the feeling. Her throat opened, and the newfound strength

she'd possessed the last few weeks returned. She'd tell them

there would be no donation, and that they should return to

Topeka, post haste.

"You certainly seem smug tonight," Belinda said from

across the table, her brow slightly elevated.

Howard reached over and captured Randi's hand. She

flashed her smile his way.

"No, just happy," she admitted. "Just happy."

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