Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 02] (23 page)

“I’ve only been here a few minutes,” David said. “I’m waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.”

“Coffee?” Myra ran her right hand down the front of David’s shirt, her scarlet fingernails tracing the threads around one buttonhole. “Lawyer man, you know I don’t make any money serving coffee.” She turned to Lee. “Pour the man some scotch.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lee hurried to comply.

“I don’t want scotch,” David said. “It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early for good scotch,” Myra scoffed. “Besides, it’s on the house, lawyer man.” She moved her hand upward until the scarlet nail of her index finger reached his chin. “Anything else you want?”

David shrugged his shoulders. “Not today. Sorry.”

Myra’s eyes narrowed. “Not today, not tonight, not ever.” She withdrew her hand from his face. Smiling at David, she kissed the tip of her finger. “Could be you’re getting what you need elsewhere—from the little Irish girl.” She moved to touch her finger to his lips.

David reached out and intercepted her, the strong, lean fingers of his hand closing around the delicate bones of her right wrist. “What have you got against her, Myra?” David moved the pad of his thumb against her wrist, feeling the abrasion encircling it.

“I don’t have anything against her, lawyer man.” Taking encouragement from the movement of his thumb against her pulse, Myra rubbed herself against him. “I knew her brother while he was here in Peaceable. We were very close. It’s a shame he died so young.” She shuddered. “Horrible to think of him run down by a wagon. That’s why I gave the poor girl a job and a place to stay. I felt sorry for her.”

“I’m sure Miss Roarke appreciates your concern.” David loosened his grip on Myra’s wrist. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”

“You do that.” Myra stepped back. “You tell her for me.”

David released her arm.

“I’ll be here if you need me, lawyer man.” She blew him a kiss. “For anything. Anything at all.”

“Nice act,” David said when Myra moved out of earshot.

“Yep,” Lee agreed. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He set a cup of coffee down in front of David.

“Was Eamon Roarke run down by a wagon?” David sipped at the black coffee.

“Right in front of the detective agency. Witnesses said the driver fit Arnie Mason’s description.”

“You think Arnie Mason killed Tessa’s brother?”

“That’s about it,” Lee answered.

David placed his cup back on the saucer. He bit back a wry laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Lee demanded.

David looked him in the eye. “Not funny. Ironic.” David took the picture of Lee out of his pocket and slid it across the bar. “Tessa gave me that this afternoon. Her brother had it in his pocket the day he died, along with a police photo of Arnie Mason.”

Lee glanced at the picture. “Christ!”

“You think Arnie Mason killed Eamon Roarke. Tessa thinks you killed Arnie.”

“Me?” Lee was all innocence. “You know me. Do you believe I killed him?” He shook his head in dismay. “I swear that woman hates me.” Lee handed the picture back to David.

“She also thinks you were trying to take Coalie back to Chicago.”

“What would I want with the kid?” Lee asked, genuinely puzzled.

“A reward for his return,” David replied.

“Damn,” Lee muttered. “So when I followed her and the boy from Chicago, she thought—”

“You were after Coalie.”

“No wonder she attacked me.” Lee whistled low, pulled the towel from over his shoulder, and started polishing the bar. He paused and looked at David. “And you, my friend? What do you think?”

David slipped the photograph into his coat pocket. He looked up and met Lee Kincaid’s worried gaze. “I don’t think you killed Mason.”

“Thank God!” Lee exhaled. “With Eamon gone, I don’t have too many friends left.” He smiled at David. “And I’d sure hate to lose one.”

David returned his smile. “Then I’d say this calls for a celebration. What time is it?” he asked Lee. “Oh, wait, I forgot—your watch is at the jeweler’s.” David patted his pocket searching for his.

“I’ve got mine,” Lee said, reaching for his pocket watch. “The jeweler put a new crystal on it and repaired the clasp on the chain. I picked it up from the store this morning.”

David watched carefully as Lee removed his timepiece from his waistcoat pocket. The flashy gold watch dangled from a delicate gold chain. A chain that didn’t match the one David had in his top desk drawer.

Tessa was waiting when David returned to the office.

Her heart constricted when she smelled the perfume on him. “You’ve been to the Satin Slipper.”

“Yes,” David answered. He placed a big basket on his desk, then took off his coat and hung it on the rack. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he caught a whiff of Myra’s scent. He hastened to explain. “It isn’t what you think. Myra turns into a cat and rubs herself against me every time I go into the saloon.” Tessa’s eyes were red and swollen. She’d been crying. “I had a few questions for Lee Kincaid.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” David said. “Look, I stopped by the hotel restaurant and picked up some supper.” He gestured toward the basket.

David knew Tessa missed Coalie. He understood that she was lonely and bored within the confines of the small apartment with only him and Horace Greeley for company, so despite his best intentions to limit his social contact with her, David had brought home a picnic for two. All the way from the hotel, he’d told himself he should keep his distance from Tessa, but with each step that brought him closer to her another part of him reminded him how much he missed her, how much he wanted to share with her. He didn’t want to stay away. He couldn’t. It took so little to make Tessa happy, and despite everything David realized he wanted to make her happy.

“I thought we could have a picnic.”

“In November?” Tessa didn’t believe him. “In freezing weather?”

“We’ll have it indoors and pretend it’s spring.” David walked to his bedroom and returned a few minutes later with a quilt. He spread it on the floor in front of the stove.

Tessa watched as he unpacked the basket, placing all of the containers on the quilt.

He looked up at Tessa. “We need plates and utensils. I couldn’t talk the hotel into loaning me any more.” He gave her a halfhearted smile. “I keep forgetting to return them.” He knelt down on the quilt.

Tessa wanted to laugh. So that accounted for the mismatched plates and cups. He probably had plates from every eating establishment in town. “Wouldn’t it be simpler just to buy some?” She walked to the cupboard, took down two plates, and handed them to him. “What about cups?”

“Not yet. But you can bring some warm water.” He held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. “For our fingers.” David unpacked a bottle of wine and two glasses. “I got this from Lee.” He noticed the way Tessa tensed at the mention of Lee’s name. “He gave me the wine to spite Myra and threw in the glasses for good measure.”

Tessa gasped. “But she counts all the glasses. If they’re missing it will come out of his pay.” She handed him the silverware.

“Lee didn’t seem to mind.” David smiled in remembrance. A bottle of Myra’s finest Scotch whisky nestled in the bottom of David’s picnic basket as well. Lee had given it to him. On the house. “Sit down.” He patted a corner of the quilt. He finished unloading the basket, except for the scotch, and tugged off his boots.

She laughed as he wiggled his toes in front of the stove. Opening the door, she dumped another scuttle full of coal into the stove’s potbellied interior. “Better?”

“Quite toasty.” He wiggled his toes again, just to hear her throaty laughter. He wasn’t disappointed. “Why don’t you join me?” He uncorked the wine and poured two glasses, then uncovered the fried chicken. He gazed up at Tessa, arching one brow in disapproval.

She sat down and stretched out her legs.

“Now we wait,” he said, smiling, “for Greeley to join us.” He began to count.

“You’re timing him?”

“Uh-huh.” David reached for her ankles. Grabbing one, he struggled with the buttons on her shoes.

Tessa laughed.

A streak of orange suddenly burst out of the storeroom and trotted into the office to inspect the picnic. Horace Greeley ambled over to David. He sniffed David’s fingers, then butted his orange head against David’s hand, demanding affection.

“I wanted to see how long it would take old Horace here to smell the chicken and come running.” David stopped trying to unbutton her shoes and moved his boots aside. Reaching for her plate, he filled it with fried chicken and potato salad. He handed it to Tessa, then filled his own.

Tessa watched his long fingers as he patiently tore pieces of chicken into tiny, cat-sized pieces for Greeley.

“No!” Tessa shrieked when David placed the chicken on the quilt. She scrambled to her feet, hurried to the cupboard, and returned with a saucer. Shooing the cat away, Tessa scooped up the meat and arranged it on the saucer. Greeley protested, weaving his way between Tessa and the dish, but she wasn’t putting up with his nonsense. She picked him up and hugged him, then set him down beside his saucer. “If we’d known you were coming,” she told the orange tom, “we’d have set a place for you.”

“Now you see why I eat in restaurants.” David chuckled. “He gets more of my food than I do.”

“He’s a growing boy,” Tessa commented, patting the cat affectionately.

“I thought you didn’t like mangy cats,” David teased.

“I don’t,” Tessa smiled, her eyes sparkling. “But this cat is far from mangy. He has a way of growing on you.”

“And his owner?” David prompted.

“Tolerable.” Tessa washed her hands in the warm water.

“Just tolerable?” David handed her a glass of wine, then returned his attention to her shoes, but he wasn’t having much success removing them.

“Very tolerable.” Tessa took the glass, then stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“Buttonhook,” she explained. “This is a picnic. I want to wiggle my toes and feel the grass under my feet before it’s over.” She went to her bedroom and returned with the buttonhook for her shoes. She handed it over to him.

“Thanks,” David said, wielding the buttonhook effectively. He loosened her shoes, then slipped them off and placed them next to his boots. Finished, he dipped his fingers in the finger bowl, dried them on a napkin, and reached for more chicken.

Tessa stretched out on the quilt, propping herself up on her elbow and resting her head against the palm of her hand. She nudged David’s feet with one of hers. “Move over,” she ordered. “I want my toes to be toasty, too.” Scooting closer to the stove, she placed her stocking-covered feet over his, seeking the heat. “Oh, dear…” Tessa giggled.

“What is it?”

“Now I can’t reach my plate.”

“Not to worry.” David grinned. “I’ll feed you.” He picked up a piece of white meat and tore it into strips. “Open up,” he directed, tantalizing her with the delectable piece of chicken.

She did.

David popped a strip of chicken into her mouth. He realized his error when Tessa’s tongue touched the tips of his fingers. He groaned, shifting his position on the quilt to hide his sudden arousal. He took a swallow of the white wine. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

Tessa frowned, disappointed. “I think it’s a lovely way to eat supper.” She smiled up at David. “I’ve never been on a picnic before.”

David drained his glass. “Then we should do it more often.” He wanted to see her smile again. He wanted to taste her again, to drink the wine from her lips. He raised his wineglass, but she hadn’t touched hers. “Don’t you like the wine?”

“I’ve never had wine before.” She sniffed her glass and wrinkled her nose.

David chuckled. “Don’t smell it. Taste it.”

Tessa took a hesitant sip. She liked the tart sensation on her tongue. She smiled. “It’s good.”

He drained his glass, then refilled it.

Horace Greeley finished his meal then moved over to David’s lap.

Tessa laughed as the greedy cat butted at David’s hand trying to intercept the food.

“This is not for you, fella.” He tore another piece of chicken off the bone and held it out to her. “This is for the lady.”

She took the food in her fingers and nibbled at it. Greeley hurried over to investigate. David grabbed him.

“Watch it, boy, or you’ll be back on the streets fending for yourself,” he warned the tom.

“Is that where you got him?” Tessa studied the motion of David’s hand as he fingered the cat’s tom ear and massaged the thick orange fur.

“Yep. I found him when he was a kitten.”

‘Tell me,” Tessa urged. She loved the sound of David’s voice, loved the way it rumbled in his chest, not unlike the purring of the cat. “Tell me how you found him and how he got his name.” She reached for her plate. David passed it to her. “You talk. I’ll feed myself. I’m hungry.”

“I found him in Washington, at the train station,” David remembered. “A group of nasty little boys had sicced their dog on him.” He scratched Greeley’s chin. The cat purred enthusiastically. He stretched out next to David’s body, closing his green eyes until they were mere slits. “He was so tiny and helpless. Just a patch of spitting orange fur hiding beneath the steps of the platform.”

“What did you do?”

“I ran the boys and the dog off, then crawled under the platform to rescue him. I was afraid he’d dart out onto the tracks if I left him there.” David fingered the damaged ear. “The boys had hurt him. Ripped his ear. It was bleeding. I didn’t really think I could save him.” David wanted her to understand. “But I had to try.”

“Do you do that often?” Tessa wanted to know. “Do you make a habit of rescuing creatures in distress?”

“No.”

“Really? I wonder.”

She spoke so softly David looked up to see if he’d heard correctly. She gazed at him, her blue-eyed gaze penetrating his defenses. It was as if she’d looked into his soul. “I’ll bet when you were a little boy you always brought home wounded animals and baby birds.”

“How did you know that?” David challenged.

“It’s obvious,” Tessa pointed out. “First you rescued Greeley. Then me.” Her smile was smug, knowing.