KeepingFaithCole (17 page)

She’d
given him precisely the opening he needed.

He
hesitated, then blurted it out. “About the dance, Lucille…”

“Yes,
what about it?” She looked genuinely perplexed.

“I’d be
mighty pleased if you’d go with me.”

“Oh, I
see.” Lucille looked away and sighed. “First, you pretend to have a genuine
interest in my business, and then you invite me to the dance. I know why you’re
doing this, Tom.”

“You
make it sound like I have some trick up my sleeve.”

“Don’t
you?” She brushed a strand of hair back from her cheek. “You’re trying to get
on my good side, that’s all.”

“I
don’t deny I’d like to get on your good side, and I’d like to stay there, but
mostly I’d just like to spend a little time with you.” Tom reached out and
gently lifted her chin. “I like you, Lucille.”

A
gentle smile appeared on her face, but sadness filled her shimmering brown
eyes. “There’s something you need to know, Tom. I’ve written to Judge Morse.
I’m asking him to grant full custody of Faith to my mother and me.”

Although
her admission surprised him, he saw no cause for alarm. “He won’t do it. You
know you’re wasting your time.”

“Actually,
I’m not so sure of that.”

“Judge
Morse gave custody to me,” Tom reminded her. “He talked about the importance of
blood ties, the need for a child to be with kin.”

“Yes,
but you gave her away. You handed her over to me. Even more, you admitted you
couldn’t care for her properly.”

Her
words smacked him like a slap in the face. “You’d use that against me? You know
why I asked for your help. I turned to you because I want what’s best for
Faith.” He fought to keep back the emotions surging inside him—emotions so
volatile he couldn’t describe them. Anger, fury, guilt, shame, and
confusion…all rolled into one gigantic, aching pain.

“So,
you see, you probably wouldn’t want to take me to that dance. You’re probably
so angry with me now that you’ll walk away and never speak to me again. You
probably won’t want to ever see me after tonight.”

Tom
mulled her words over in his mind. It didn’t take long to figure where her
thoughts were headed.

“That’s
what you want, isn’t it? You want to tell Judge Morse that I turned my back on
Faith and walked away. You want one more thing to use against me.” Although it
hurt, he forced himself to smile as he took a step closer. “Well, Miss Lucille,
get this through your pretty little head right now. I’m not going anywhere. In
fact, you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me. And yes, for what it’s worth,
I’d still like to take you to that dance.”

She
drew back. “Why would you want to do such a crazy thing?”

“I
believe I’ve already stated my reason.” He pushed his hat back and let out a
breath. “Doggone it, why do you have to make this so difficult? I like you. I
like you a lot.”

“But
aren’t you angry with me? I figured you’d hate me once you found out.”

“To me
honest, I’m not thrilled that you’ve written to the judge, but one thing I’ve
learned is that there’s no way to go back and change the past. You’ve done it,
and it can’t be undone. All we can do now is start from where we are and go on.”

Wasn’t
that how Chappell had put it? Start wherever you are.

Right here. Right now.

He
didn’t agree with the way Lucille had handled things, but he couldn’t find
fault with the care she’d provided for Faith. Instead of the two of them
working at cross purposes, the best course of action would be to come together,
to search for answers that would give them all what they wanted—a secure future
for Faith.

“We
want the same thing,” he said, reaching for her hands. “For Faith’s sake, let’s
not fight about it.”

She bit
her lip, then nodded. “You’re right, of course. For Faith’s sake.”

* * *
*

We want the same thing.

Tom’s
words echoed in Lucille’s head long after he’d said goodnight and ridden away.
He’d been speaking of Faith, of course, but Lucille suspected they shared other
desires, as well.

As she
pulled the covers up that night, she knew she would dream of the rugged cowboy.
Sometime over the last few weeks—she couldn’t say precisely when—dreaming of
him had become a nightly occurrence. Each night, the dreams became more heated,
more passionate.

She
knew Tom wanted her. The way he looked at her, the way his eyes lingered on her
breasts, the way his hooded gaze swept over her narrow waist and flaring
hips…all were unmistakable signs of desire.

She
wanted him, too.

Once,
Lucille had thought him rude, crude, and most ungentlemanly. How mistaken she’d
been. Thinking back to the statehood celebration, she marveled at his actions.
Most men would have eagerly taken advantage of a woman in her condition. Drunk,
unable to protest. He’d had every opportunity to have his way with her.

Instead,
he’d treated her with respect, had left her with her virtue intact.

She
smiled as she drifted off to sleep, glad that she’d accepted Tom’s invitation
to the dance. This time, their night together would end differently, not with
Tom tucking her into bed and walking away, but with the two of them sharing
passions they’d held inside too long.

It was
wrong and Lucille knew it. No decent young woman gave her virtue away before
marriage. Yet she would not be swayed by tiresome moral arguments. Life had
passed her by, leaving her with longings, and too many unfulfilled hopes and
dreams.

 
She had no real romantic prospects, no
expectations of finding a suitable husband and making a good marriage for
herself. Yet she yearned to know pleasure, to feel complete as a woman.

Tom
alone could give her the happiness she sought. She would entrust her virtue to
no other man.

* * * *

Moonlight
shimmered through the night. Holding tight to Tom’s hand, Lucille followed him
from the social hall. The wine he’d given her had left her slightly giddy and a
bit lightheaded, but not so much that she didn’t know what she was about. She
was in complete control of her faculties.

Holding
his hand, she led him down the street toward the little dressmaking shop. No
one would find them there; no one would disturb them. She thought of the little
room at the back of the shop. It didn’t have quite
all
the comforts of home, but it did have a soft feather mattress
which she could spread out across the floor. With a little candlelight to
enhance the mood, it would be a perfect place for seduction.

“What
is it you want to show me?” he asked.

She
didn’t answer. All she gave him was a slight shrug and a shy smile.

When
they reached the shop, Lucille fumbled for her key, quickly unlocked the door,
and pushed it open. Together, they stepped inside. Although far warmer than the
temperature outside, the shop felt uncomfortably cool when she removed her woolen
cloak.

“Maybe
we should light a fire,” she suggested, glancing toward the pot-bellied stove
in the corner.

“Lucille,
what’s going on?” he asked as they stood in the center of the quiet shop. “Why
did you bring me here?”

“You
haven’t figured it out yet?” She came to him, lifted her arms, and placed them
around his neck. “Do you remember what you said when came to see me? You told
me we both wanted the same thing.” She pressed herself closer to him. “I want
you, Tom, and I know you want me. Don’t tell me I’m not woman enough for you,
or that I’m too inexperienced. Well, I
am
inexperienced,” she added. “You’re right on that. I’ve never been with a man
before, but I know what lovemaking is all about.” She probably sounded like a
frantic, babbling idiot. She drew in a deep breath, hoping to calm her nerves,
then leaned back to gaze up into Tom’s eyes. “I want you to be the first. I
want you to make love to me.”

Tom
reached up and stroked her cheek. “Are you sure about this? Or is this one more
thing you hope to use against me?”

She gasped.
“I’d never do that!”

“You
might go to Judge Morse, tell him I took advantage of you. You could make a
fine case against me.”

“Wouldn’t
you speak up and tell the judge the truth? Wouldn’t you tell him that I was the
one who seduced you, not the other way around? I’d say you could make a very
fine case against me. You could claim that I’m immoral, that I’m not fit to
care for Faith.”

He
grinned down at her. “Somehow, I doubt Judge Morse would ever believe you’d
thrown yourself at me.”

His
words hurt. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me.” Confusion rattled
her brain. “You’ve kissed me. You’ve asked me out. We’ve danced together. And
I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She gazed up into his eyes, once again
seeing her own desires reflected there. “Are you saying you want nothing more
than my friendship?” She reached up and put her arms around his neck. “I don’t
believe you, Tom Henderson. I think you want a lot more than that.” Lifting up
on tiptoes, she planted a kiss on his lips.

“Of
course I want more than friendship,” he rasped when Lucille pulled away. He
raked a hand through his sandy-blond hair. “It’s just…”

“Just…what?”
Frustrated and nervous, Lucille stood before him, desperate to understand his
sudden reluctance. It came to her in a blinding flash. “Yes, of course. I
realize you’re concerned about…well, that is, I mean, I know you’re worried there
could be…” She floundered through a verbal sea of confusion, searching for the
right word. Finally, she found it. “Consequences.” Looking up, she took a deep
breath. “Aren’t there ways to avoid unwanted consequences? I mean, can’t you
do…something?” She shrugged. “Well…that is, before you…” Her cheeks flaming,
she turned away. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Can I
pull out? Is that what you’re asking?” Tom chuckled. He came up behind her and
put his arms around her. “Yeah, I can do that. And there’s no need to be
embarrassed, darling.”

With a
gentle touch, he turned her to face him, then bent his head to hers. Their lips
melted together in a lingering, delicious moment as they shared a long and
tender kiss. Lucille moaned softly when Tom finally pulled his mouth from hers.
As the tip of his tongue teased her lips, she moaned again.

It was
good. His kisses were always delicious, but tonight, kisses weren’t nearly
enough. She reached for him, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him
toward her. He put up no resistance, and their lips came together again. His
arms went around her, strong and commanding now. She buried her fingers in his
hair, losing herself completely in the sweetness of his kiss. His tongue
flicked against hers. She could taste the whiskey. She drew back as her
emotions jolted.

“What
about that fire?” she asked.

“Honey,
I don’t think we’re going to need one.”

“You’re
right. It does feel warm in here.”

“Hot
might be a better word.”

“Come
with me.” Nervous, but excited, she slipped from his embrace then reached for
his hand. She led him toward the back of the shop, pushed open the door, and
drew Tom into the little room. She pulled the old feather mattress out from the
corner and spread it across the floor. “I’ve got a few candles,” she whispered.
“Would you like me to light them?”

“I’ll
do it. Show me where they are, and I’ll light them while you get comfortable.”

She
rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a few tapers, and handed them to Tom.
“There’s a candleholder on the table.” She pointed toward the corner.

He
struck a match, held it up, and gazed at Lucille through the brilliant flame.
“If you want to change your mind, Lucille, this is the time to do it.”

“I’m
not going to change my mind.” She stepped back, watching as he lit a candle.
The little room seemed filled with light. Lucille realized his eyes would be
upon her as she undressed. “I didn’t bring you here to tease you, Tom. I
brought you here because…” She lowered her gaze. She shouldn’t be embarrassed,
she told herself. She and Tom were adults. What happened between them was
nobody’s business but theirs. She was a grown woman. She had the right to
experience pleasure, to decide when and where to surrender herself.

“Lucille?”

“Yes?”

“I know
you’ve never done this before.”

“So?
What difference does that make?” She lifted her gaze to his, then studied him
closely, feature by feature. His skin was weathered from years of exposure to
the sun, the wind, the spring rains, and the winter snows. She ran a finger
down his cheek, touching the dimples that always gave him a soft, friendly
expression, even when he was serious, as he was now.

Her
hands reached up. With eager fingers, she traced his eyebrows, caressed his
cheeks, then moved down to touch his lips.

He
closed his eyes. His breath, soft as a whisper, touched her face. She leaned
closer and drank in the scent of him. He smelled of leather and whiskey and
musky desire. A low growl escaped from his throat as his arms closed around
her, drawing her nearer still.