Wed Under Western Skies Page 15

  At that moment Jack envied the older man with all his being. Envied all of them their comfortable home and their uncomplicated family. This wasn’t what he’d expected to see.

  Charmaine had poured Daniel another glass of milk to go with his slice of pie, and the boy polished them off with obvious appreciation.

  She seated herself across from Jack once again, this time with a dainty rose-patterned cup and saucer in front of her. To her tea, she added a spoonful of sugar from a matching sugar bowl, and blew across the surface of the steaming liquid.

  Her rosebud lips formed a pretty O as he watched, mesmerized. She blew again, and his heart contracted. She glanced up, and an ache like a hunger he knew was impossible after the meal he’d just tucked away gnawed in his belly.

  Her cheeks grew pink beneath his stare. She set the cup back in its saucer and squared her shoulders self-consciously. Her gaze slid to her mother, occupied with trying to draw Daniel into a conversation, then back to Jack.

  He sipped from his mug, and the coffee was rich and strong. “I’m partial to chicory,” he said, referring to the taste.

  “The missus blends it,” Mort told him. “Used to do it to make the grounds stretch, but now it’s the way I like it.”

  “Old farmers get set in their ways.” Vera’s comment held a smile.

  “As do old farmers’ wives,” he replied with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

  Charmaine inclined her head toward Jack. “You haven’t touched your pie.”

  He picked up his fork. “I’m savoring this meal. It’s not often Daniel and I eat this well. You and your mama are fine cooks.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Easton.” Vera folded her napkin and laid it beside her dessert plate. “We don’t lead as fancy a life as some of our neighbors, but we have all we need and more.”

  “Vera’s brother is the town banker.” Mort washed down his last bite of pie with his coffee. “She could’ve had a fancy house and all the trimmin’s like the Sweetwaters, but she chose to marry me and be a farmer’s wife.”

  “My mama told me love doesn’t shop according to price tags.” The tone of her reply was more reproachful than teasing, leading Jack to think her husband’s mention of her choice hadn’t been the first time.

  Mort chuckled, and Charmaine rolled her eyes at her parents’ conversation as though she was used to it.

  “Do you enjoy a good cigar, Jack?” Mort asked.

  “On occasion, sir.”

  “Walk outdoors with me. I’ll show you the old saddle and gear that belonged to my granddad.”

  Daniel’s face lit up. “Kin I see it, too?”

  “Sure, son. Come with us.”

  “Mind your manners and ask to be excused,” Jack admonished his son. “And thank the ladies for the meal.”

  Daniel sank back onto his seat with a sheepish wrinkle across his forehead. “Can I be a-scused?”

  “Yes,” his father replied.

  He glanced from Charmaine to her mother. “Thank you for supper.”

  “You’re quite welcome, Daniel,” Vera said. “We’re pleased to have you as our guest.”

  Charmaine watched the three males exit through the mudroom, where she knew they’d stashed their hats.

  “I’ll finish the dishes, dear,” her mother said. “You run along and get yourself ready.”

  Charmaine averted her attention. “Ready for what?”

  “I thought there was an engagement at the Social Hall this evening. Someone’s birthday?”

  “Doneta’s!” She had completely forgotten the birthday party. She glanced down at her dress. She had dressed a little fancier than usual for supper, but her hair was a fright. She’d been perfectly content to stay right here, but she’d already made the plans, so it would be rude not to go now. “Thank goodness I made her gift weeks ago.” She raised a hand to her hair. “I have to curl my hair. Wayne will be coming for me.”

  Upstairs, she removed the glass lamp and lit the lantern on her dressing table. After brushing out her hair again, she held the curling iron over the flame. Tress by tress, she curled and arranged her hair, wound a ribbon through the mass and found a pair of black slippers to replace her scuffed shoes.

  At the sound of men’s voices below her window, she peered out. Wayne had parked one of Luke’s rented buggies near the side porch, and was standing speaking with her father and Jack.

  Extinguishing the flame, she checked her appearance and dabbed lilac water at her wrists and behind her ears. She grabbed her gloves, the birthday gift and a shawl before dashing down the stairs.

  Charmaine called a goodbye to her mother and calmed herself as she stepped out the front door and navigated the wraparound porch to the side where the men stood.

  Three sets of eyes turned. Her father had the same strained expression he wore whenever he was forced to make polite conversation with Wayne. She sensed Wayne’s hurry to go when he offered a stiff smile. Jack’s dark gaze traveled over her hair and dress, touching on her shoes, her gloves, the gift in her hand, missing nothing.

  “I see you met Mr. Easton,” she said.

  “Yes, we’ve met.” Wayne’s tone was dismissive as he moved forward to take her arm.

  “Did you meet Daniel?”

  Wayne didn’t have a chance to reply.

  “He discovered the kittens in the corner stall and hasn’t budged since,” her father reported.

  “Oh, aren’t they darling?” She turned to their guest with a smile. “Mr. Easton, did you see the fuzzy gray one with the white paws?”

  The corner of his mouth inched up in a grin. “I did.”

  She faced Wayne. “Would you like to see the kittens and meet Daniel?”

  Wayne had the same coloring as his sister Glenda, reddish blond hair, fair skin and blue eyes. He had a classically handsome face, square-jawed and freshly shaven.

  His complexion reddened slightly, clueing her that he would rather have hurried on, but didn’t want to appear rude to her father. He gave a stilted nod and accompanied her to the barn, where she introduced him to Daniel and the litter of kittens.

  “We’d better be going now,” he told her after only a minute or two.

  Jack and her father had moved to occupy chairs on the porch and were engaged in conversation. Her father raised a hand in farewell. She would have liked to join them and hear what they were talking about. She waved back, regret banking her enthusiasm. Charmaine felt Jack’s notice as Wayne assisted her up on the buggy and she adjusted her skirts.

  Wayne joined her on the seat and urged the horse into motion.

  Jack’s meal was weighing heavily in his belly as he watched Charmaine’s beau help her up to the seat of the buggy. Earlier, she’d climbed up and down on her own with neither his nor her father’s help, but he supposed etiquette dictated she allow her caller to lend a hand. Jack had kept his distance where Brookover had moved right into the task.

  Gone was the informal young woman who had emerged for tonight’s meal. Charmaine had changed back into the person he’d seen that first day—a gussied up female who put on airs. Seeing that proved his belief that people were two-faced. Insincere.

  The horse pulled the buggy away from the house and yard.

  Jack liked her father. Mort Renlow was a straightforward fellow. His wife seemed genuine. But their daughter was spoiled and pampered. She wore elaborate clothing and jewelry, drove her father’s best rig and had time to bake fancy cookies, attend social events and go to tea parties.

  She volunteered at the school, but that was probably just an amusement. Like a schoolgirl, she chattered about silly things, spoke of romance.

  It didn’t matter to Jack where she went or who she went with. Wayne Brookover worked for the druggist. Jack had met him previously when he’d stopped in to buy salve for an injured horse. Brookover probably suited Charmaine, he thought. A citified gentleman for a fancified woman.

  As the buggy disappeared, Mrs. Renlow joined them, having removed her apron and fixed herself a cup
of tea. She took the rocker and gazed out across the side yard. The sky was streaked with orange and lavender as the sun headed for the horizon.

  “Charmaine tells me you’re a widower,” she said.

  “My wife died when Daniel was a baby.”

  “Such a shame. He’s a delightful child. She would have been proud of him.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Mort drew a hand down his face to his chin. “You teachin’ him your trade?”

  “I am. He’s taking to it like a duck to water.”

  “He’s a smart boy. One day he’ll take over your shop and make you proud for sure.”

  Charmaine was an only child, Jack realized. She would probably inherit this farm. Was her father wondering what would become of it if she married the druggist?

  Jack stood. “Reckon I’ll round up my boy and head home to do chores. Thank you kindly for your hospitality.”

  “It was our pleasure,” Vera said. “Thank you for seeing Charmaine home. Come back again soon.”

  Nearly half an hour later, Daniel slept on his shoulder as they passed the northwest corner of town. Lights blazed and piano music tinkled from the Social Hall. He spotted the rig Brookover had brought for Charmaine parked with others in the side lot.

  He was night to day from those people. The place he had now was the closest he’d ever lived to town his entire life. He’d been raised in the mountains, his mother teaching him to read and figure. Occasionally, he’d attended school at one fort or another. His grandfather had caught and broken wild horses, and his father had trained horses for the Army. Jack had grown up around simple hardworking men who had no time for nonsense.

  The women of his family had been wives, mothers and ranch helpmates. From a young age he’d learned to be practical, realistic and to live in the present. He’d moved Daniel here so his son would have a chance at a good education. Jack knew that alone he couldn’t teach the boy all he needed to learn to succeed.

  But Jack didn’t fit in. He was going through the motions with this school project, and they would attend the parade, but that didn’t make him or his son one of them. It had all seemed like a good plan until this unsettled feeling had lodged inside him and wouldn’t be budged.

  Charmaine was the reason, and he wasn’t too blind to recognize it. He was wise, though, so after tucking Daniel into his bed and doing outside chores, he washed a few shirts and hung them on a line behind the stove. And all the while he gave himself a talking to. He had more sense than to let himself get addled over a woman—especially an unsuitable one like Charmaine. He didn’t want impractical emotional clutter controlling him.

  Looking at her might be disturbing, and smelling her might conjure up dozens of sensual images, but he wasn’t going to let those useless things addlepate his brain. Not now, not ever.

  Chapter Six

  All of her friends were there that evening, and Charmaine enjoyed their company as usual. And as usual, she was the only unmarried young woman in their gathering. Most of the guests had gone to school together; those who hadn’t had married her schoolmates. Glancing around the Social Hall, she noted she’d been to every last person’s wedding, in fact had helped plan most of them….

  The fact that she was yet unmarried had begun to weigh upon her shoulders like one of her dowry chests. Watching Luke and Annie dance, her cousin’s words echoed in her head.

  Are you sure you want a man who has dragged his feet for so long?

  Charmaine glanced over at Wayne. He stood talking to Benjamin Barnett, who worked on Noah Cutter’s ranch.

  Do you truly love him?

  Of course she did. Why, she’d wanted to marry him for the past four years, hadn’t she? If he’d asked on any given occasion, she’d have accepted and they would have been Mister and Missus by now. Perhaps they would even have had a child or two.

  Her gaze went back to Annie, whom she now knew was expecting another child, and she observed the way she and Luke shared smiles and touches.

  Where had she gone wrong? she wondered for the hundredth time. Why didn’t Wayne long to hold her in his arms like that—why didn’t he want to make her his wife and give her children?

  Annie was special. She’d deserved Luke from the beginning.

  Noah and Kate drifted past, diverting her attention. Originally, Kate had married Noah’s philandering brother, Levi, and when he’d been killed, Noah had gone to find his brother’s wife and bring her home. Noah hadn’t deliberately shown his face in Copper Creek for most of twenty years until he’d fallen in love with Kate and she’d drawn him out of his shell.

  Kate was special, too.

  Charmaine had done her best to be charming. She’d shown Wayne she could cook and sew. She looked after her nieces and nephews, proving her ability with children. She went to great pains with her skin and hair and clothing….

  Maybe she wasn’t special, maybe she was just a farm girl who had improved herself, but she was smart and she deserved the same happiness everyone else here seemed to have.

  Her cousin caught her eye, and Charmaine hoped her wistful thoughts hadn’t been written on her face. A moment later, Luke escorted Annie to the side of the room and fetched her a cup of punch. Annie took a seat on one of the benches that lined the walls.

  Charmaine distractedly watched the other dancers.

  “Will you dance with me, Charmaine?”

  Luke was standing before her, his hand extended, a smile in his blue eyes.

  She glanced at Annie before taking his hand and letting Luke whisk her on to the dance floor. “Annie put you up to this.”

  “Her hip is tired.”

  “Don’t forget, I’ve known her since I was born. She can pull that one off on someone else, but not on me.”

  He laughed and led her through the steps.

  “What’s wrong with me, Luke?”

  He glanced from her hair to her dress. “Nothing I can see, why? Aren’t you feeling well?”

  “I’m fine. I mean why am I the only unmarried woman over the age of seventeen in this town? Is there something dreadfully wrong with me that I don’t recognize in my mirror?”

  “Of course not. You’re beautiful.”

  “Do people tell things about me behind my back? Am I a pariah?”

  “You’ve always had a flair for the dramatic,” he replied, not unkindly. “But you haven’t any flaws I’ve heard people whispering about.”

  “Why do you think Wayne holds back? Tell me truly.”

  Luke glanced over her shoulder, and she guessed he was looking for the man she was questioning him about.

  His gaze came back to hers directly, honestly. “If I hadn’t met Annie, I might have asked you to marry me myself,” he said. “I’ve loved her since we were young, so there was never anyone else for me. But if I’d never known her…who knows?”

  She studied his sincerity a moment, then glanced away.

  “I don’t have answers for you,” he continued. “Personally, I think the man is daft to let you get away.”

  “What do you mean let me get away? It’s not as though there are others asking for my hand—or showing interest for that matter.”

  “That’s a shame. Sometimes a little competition is healthy. Makes a man work a little harder.”

  She tapped his arm in amused rebuke.

  “I’m just stating a fact,” he assured her. “Men are competitive.”

  “You’re suggesting jealousy is a motivating factor?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I was just thinking out loud.”

  The musicians wound the song to an end, and Charmaine took a step back. “Return to your wife, Luke Carpenter.”

  “Thanks for the dance.”

  He kissed her cheek and left her on the edge of the dance floor where Wayne was now waiting.

  “That was forward behavior for a married man,” he said, his mouth held in a disapproving line.

  “What?”

  “Kissing you like that.”

&nbs
p; “He kissed my cheek. He’s my cousin’s husband, for goodness sake. A friend. A good friend, you know that.”

  He handed her a cup of punch. Questions wound through her mind. Was Wayne jealous of Luke? Was Luke right about competition inspiring men? Had Luke done that on purpose?

  She glanced to where Luke sat beside his wife, their entwined hands resting on his knee. Annie was saying something, completely absorbing his attention.

  “You know,” Charmaine said in a conversational tone. “There was a time when Luke escorted both me and Annie to events. Took us for ice cream at Miss Marples’ and for rides to see the house he was building.”

  Wayne studied the man across the room. “Is that so?”

  A twinge of guilt ate at Charmaine. She was entirely too pleased with the fact that Wayne was behaving in this petulant manner. She couldn’t contain a smile.

  Entirely too pleased.

  “Tell Darlene I hope she’s feeling better soon,” Charmaine told Isaac Redman two nights later.

  He closed his front door and Charmaine gathered the hem of her work skirt and walked back to her team and wagon. She and Darlene were supposed to paint the windows of the little schoolhouse this evening. Alone it would take twice as long. “Drat.”

  She glanced at the house to make sure Darlene’s husband hadn’t heard. Apparently, her poor friend had been feeling under the weather for two days.

  Well, Charmaine had been to the Easton place once, she could find it again. She glanced at the basket she’d secured beneath the seat.

  She guided the team out of town and enjoyed the different perspective of the countryside. Thoughts of Wayne’s reaction to Luke asking her to dance and giving her a sisterly kiss had plagued her since Doneta’s birthday night before last. She was convinced that Luke had deliberately been affectionate to provoke a reaction from Wayne.

  Pulling into the dooryard before Jack’s one-story house, she led the horses toward the barn. Jack strode out of the interior. Once again that unexplainable shiver of anticipation shot up her spine.

  What had come over her?

  Did she really want to know?

  Chapter Seven