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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

A Season Beyond a Kiss (11 page)

BOOK: A Season Beyond a Kiss
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“I’m all right,” she reassured him softly. “Truly I am. Indeed, I have much to be thankful for.” Smiling into his eyes, she left no doubt that as her husband, she had every hope that he would prove her greatest blessing.

Jeff lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingertips in silent tribute. Tucking her hand within his arm, he faced the shopkeeper, who, upon turning, offered a kindly smile to Raelynn before meeting her husband’s gaze.

“Sir, I’d like to buy the coffer for my wife,” Jeffrey announced, “but I’d also be interested in hearing how you came by it. Do you have any memory of the one who sold it to you?”

The man stroked a finger musefully across his chin as he tried to think back. “I believe that particular piece was brought in here by a man who had just arrived from England. He kept referring to himself as Ol’ Coop. He said the coffer belonged to his sister before her death and that he needed as much as I could spare to care for his niece. Am I to assume, young lady, that you’re his niece?”

Raelynn had no wish to claim kinship to a man who had allowed her mother to die while he had selfishly indulged his own propensities to drink and gamble. “He said he was my uncle, sir, but I have reservations about the truth of that possibility. If anything, he was a despicable swindler who preyed on us for profit.”

“Had I any notion the box was not rightly his at the time, madam, I would never have purchased it. I don’t normally barter with thieves, but when he said he had a niece to care for, I was in hopes he was a benevolent sort. Now I must believe that I was mistaken. I humbly beg your pardon.”

“It has been my conviction, sir, that in his lifetime, Cooper Frye has managed to dupe a lot of people,” Raelynn stated softly. “You weren’t the first, nor do I think that you’ll be the last. My own mother was taken in by his claims of kinship and died as a result.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” the proprietor murmured in solemn empathy.

“My sorrow is fading with each passing day, sir. The recovery of my father’s coffer means a great deal to me. I’m thankful you bought it and that I saw it here in your shop. I’m even more grateful that my husband is willing to buy it for me. The box will become a treasured keepsake which we can hopefully hand down to our offspring in years to come. If you hadn’t purchased it, I’d still be wondering what happened to it.”

“You’re as gracious as you are beautiful, madam,” the shopkeeper averred with a kindly smile. “And it is my wish that in the months and years to come the coffer will become an even greater asset as you store away memories of your father.”

 

  
  “T
HEY’RE COMIN’ OUT NOW
,” O
LNEY
H
YDE ANNOUNCED
, leaning near the window of the hired livery in which he was now safely ensconced. Chortling softly, he gestured toward the couple who were just emerging from the shop across the street. “Look at that! Mr. Birmin’am’s done gone an’ bought yer liedy somethin’ else.”


Dummkopf!
Get back before somevone sees yu!” Gustav Fridrich snapped irately. “Or haf yu forgotzen zo zoon zhat yu’re still vanted by zhe sheriff?”

The curly headed blond grinned cockily as he considered the older man whose stocky frame dominated the opposite seat of the well-worn carriage. The German was nearing two score, stubborn to a fault, and lame now in one arm, which seemed forever destined to be kept bound up in a sling. He had thick, blunt features, a shining bald head, wiry brows, and pale-blue eyes, the coldness of which could almost freeze a man. At the moment, they were hot, angry, and glaring a hole through his younger companion.

Shrugging off the harsh reminder with a casual twitch of his brawny shoulders, Olney relaxed back into his own seat. “Ain’t no use in frettin’ yerself ’cause o’ that lame-witted sheriff, Mr. Fridrich. He ain’t gonna find me. I knows this here town an’ all the areas ’round ’bout it like I do the back o’ me hand. I can come an’ go just as much as I please wit’out Sheriff Townsend bein’ none the wiser.”

“It vill be zhe back of my hand zhat yu’ll be getting if yu cause me any more trouble,” Gustav barked. “I haven’t forgotzen zhat it vas yu who shot Herr Birmingham and made his pistol go off and shatter
mien
shoulder! Nor do I zhink zhe sheriff iz as stupid as yu make him out to be. Yu, however, may be lacking vhat he iz not. If not for zhat freight wagon and my timely intervention earlier today, Herr Birmingham vould haf caught yu and no doubt haf relished beating yu to a bloody pulp before personally escorting yu to zhe sheriff’s office.”

Olney scoffed. “Maybe he would’ve, maybe not. Just ’cause Birmin’am’s close ta a head taller’n me don’t mean he can best me. I’da’ve hit him in the gut afore he could’ve even swung a punch. Anyways, I forgot ta tell ye thanks for askin’ the driver ta halt for me on the street like ye did.” Olney’s shoulders shook as he recalled his adversary’s frantic search after the livery had passed. “Yes, sir, we sure fooled that fancy man, we did, but ye know, Mr. Fridrich, ye ought not ta get inta such a temper o’er what’s already been done. It ain’t good for yer liver.”

“Yu imbecile! Vhat do yu know about livers?”

“Only what I’ve heard Doc Clarence tellin’ ye, but enough ta figure out yers is a-gonna turn green wit’ all that bile a-workin’ in it.”

“Yu prattle inanely about matters beyond yur ken,” the German sneered, “and yu annoy me in zhe process.”

“More’n Mr. Birmin’am?”

Gustav’s lips curled in disdain as he swept his gaze out the window and fixed it glaringly upon the tall, well-garbed man presently strolling with his ravishingly beautiful bride on the boardwalk across the street. Noting the wooden box his handsome adversary was toting, Gustav grumbled ill-temperedly. “No telling vhat zhat fool has bought for his
frau
now. He’s too stupid to realize zhat he vill only spoil zhe girl buying her everyzhing she asks for. Vhen she iz mine again, she vill learn better.”

Olney canted his head curiously. “Just how ye plannin’ on snatchin’ Mrs. Birmin’am back now that Frye’s plan ta sic Nell on Mr. Birmin’am ain’t panned out? Mrs. Birmin’am was supposed ta hate her husband after Nell accused him o’ bein’ the cause o’ her fat belly, ‘ceptin’ the redhead don’t look like she’s a-bearin’ any hard grudge against him, not the way she’s a-hangin’ onta his arm an’ a-smilin’ up at the bloke. Looks ta me like they’re gettin’ on real fine.”

“Yu find Cooper Frye for me and tell him zhat he vill haf to come up vith a much better plan if he expects to live past zhe summer,” Gustav snarled. “Tell him zhat I vill even make it worth his vhile if zhis time he can actually be successful in making Frau Birmingham hate her husband.”

Unable to comprehend the wisdom of such a plan, Olney waggled his head much like a child begrudging a parent’s dictates. “Why do ye need Frye’s help when ye’ve got me? I’m far better able ta do what that stinkin’ sot can do. From what I hears lately, he gots his head too much in the puke-can ta be o’ any use ta himself, much less ta ye. All that rot-gut whisky he guzzles sure ain’t helpin’
his
liver none, that’s for damned sure. He’ll be dead afore the year is out the way he’s been swillin’ down that stuff lately.”

“Livers again! As if yu knew anyzhing about zhem.”

“I’m askin’ ye, Mr. Fridrich, why do ye need that souse?” Olney insisted.

“I vould hear vhat new ideas zhe Englishman has to offer me. If he believes he vill die if he disappoints me, he vill prove very resourceful, I zhink.”

“A sizable reward would be incentive for anybody.” Olney met the pale blue eyes with a calculating glint in his own. “How much extra are ye willin’ ta pay ta see the deed done, anyway?”

Gustav briefly pondered the younger man’s question. “A zhousand Yankee dollars.”

Olney arched a sun-bleached brow in rampant surprise. “Ye really want the li’l wench that much? Even after the way she jeered at ye when ye were in pain?” At the uncomplimentary reminder, his employer raised his chin in growing vexation, prompting Olney to shake his curly head in bemusement. “Ye sure gots a forgivin’ heart, Mr. Fridrich, or ye’re after somethin’ more’n dumpin’ that li’l redhair on her arse an’ climbin’ on top.”

“I vill not let
anyvone
take vhat iz mine and zhen enjoy zhe rest of zhe year unscathed! If I let Herr Birmingham or even Cooper Frye continue to live after thwarting me, zhen others vill get zhe idea zhey can turn a deaf ear to Gustav. My business affairs vould be in shambles once vord of my clemency got around.”

“Ye’d actually give Cooper Frye as much as that for carryin’ out yer orders when he was the one what got ye in this mess in the first place? Did ye forget the man sold ye the girl after he’d already taken seven hundred fifty dollars from Birmin’am for her? Frye deliberately bilked ye. How can ye be so forgivin’?”

“If he brings me zhe girl, zhen it vill be vorth it to me.” Gustav pursed his lips briefly in a facial shrug. “If he doesn’t, zhen zhe fish vill be feedin’ on his carcass ere the end of zhis year. Eventually I vill deal vith him over zhe matter of his cheating me, but it vill be in my own good time, vhen he ceases to be of any use to me . . . after I have zhe vench. If he kills Birmingham in his attempt to placate me . . .” Gustav lifted his thick shoulders in a gesture of casual indifference, “all zhe better. He vill hang for it; I vill not.”

Olney was still a bit awed over the man’s willingness to expend such a large sum for only one wench when the man wasn’t normally satisfied unless he had a half dozen harlots catering to his prurient bent. “Yer pardon, Mr. Fridrich, but are ye sure ye wants ta deal wit’ a man ye can’t trust? Ol’ Coop may rook ye again if’n ye give him any more slack.”

“It vill be his last chance tu make everyzhing right, at least for a time. If he cannot do it, he vill die. If he can, I vill give him zhe zhousand minus vhat he stole from me.” The German waved his good hand imperiously. “Summon Frye to mien quarters zhis afternoon. I vill discuss zhis matter vith him.”

Olney touched his brow with two fingers and proceeded to bestow his own version of an old Arab salute upon his less than honorable benefactor. “Yer every wish is me command, O’ great one.”

 

  
  T
HE
B
IRMINGHAMS’ SHOPPING EXCURSION CAME TO AN
end later that afternoon when Jeff noticed his wife’s fatigue. He hailed the landau and bade Thaddeus to take them on another tour of the city. This time the couple lent their complete attention to the areas through which they passed, Raelynn out of curiosity, Jeff by way of a qualified guide. Later he suggested dinner. “If you’re not too tired, my pet, I think you’d enjoy dining at an inn of which I’m especially fond. It’s just around the corner if you’d care to walk the rest of the way.”

Raelynn felt greatly refreshed after a leisurely ride in the landau, and although she doubted that anything could surpass the fare normally served at Oakley, she was quite willing to go anywhere with her handsome husband. Being on his arm wasn’t quite as delightful as being in his bed, but it was nevertheless enjoyable. Thus she had no objection to his suggestion.

“The evening is absolutely delightful, Jeffrey,” she said, clasping his arm against her breast as they meandered toward the inn. “If not for the fact that I’m simply ravenous, I’d be content to just walk around again.”

“What precisely are you hungry for, madam?” Jeff queried with a meaningful twinkle in his eyes, brushing the encompassed limb provocatively against the swelling ripeness.

Coyly Raelynn smiled up at him in the waning light and felt a tingling excitement sweep through her as his caress awakened her senses. “Everything!”

He groaned in mock frustration. “Now you’ve done it, madam. I’ll now have my heart set on taking a private room here in the city and easing my hunger for you ere the hour is out.”

Raelynn caressed his lapel with wifely familiarity. As the time approached for them to return home, she became increasingly mindful of the fact that for the first time since their wedding vows had been spoken, they would be sharing the same bed for the entire night. If the past morning could be counted as a fair indication of the ecstasy derived from the joining of two beings, she could believe they would be too busy playing together and making love to even think of sleeping. “Oh, but I’d rather go home and ensconce myself in yours. We could lock all the doors and stay in bed until we’re ready to find other diversions.” She glanced up coquettishly. “I have a nightgown you haven’t seen yet. I was saving it for our first night together.”

BOOK: A Season Beyond a Kiss
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