Rexanne Becnel (36 page)

He shrugged. “I thought you might like it.”

There it was again, that considerate side of him that got to her every time. But before she could respond, he shut the door to his room and strode over to the hall door.

“Don’t open this to anyone but me. There’re a lot of rough characters in town, though this hotel should be pretty safe. I’ll be back within the hour.”

Then he was gone, and Abby was left more unsettled than ever. She wanted to hate him. It would be so much easier if she did. But he made it impossible. Just one generous gesture, just one compliment—even a grudging one—and she was dissolving in emotions she knew she’d later regret.

“Jerusalem,” she muttered as she unlatched her battered carpetbag and drew out her clothes. And what a tattered lot they were. Two blouses, two skirts, stockings that should have been thrown away long ago. An extra petticoat that would never be white again.

What was the point of cleaning up if this was all she had to wear?

Yet clean up she did. She bathed using the water in the pitcher and bowl provided, and brushed her hair out. She took more care than she had in a long time to put it up. Yet once she was finished and awaiting Tanner’s return, she knew she only looked like a shabby emigrant woman with a rather elaborate coiffure, given the poor condition of the rest of her outfit.

Still, what did it really matter? She wasn’t trying to impress anyone—especially not Tanner and her grandfather. Yet when she heard Tanner’s footsteps in the adjacent room, she knew that wasn’t entirely true. She’d do anything to impress Tanner, to draw him to her. To keep him. Only she had no idea how to accomplish that.

He knocked, then entered at her subdued response.

“Ready?”

Abby nodded but didn’t face him. Instead she stared into the dresser mirror and positioned the only bonnet she had left, tying the slightly frayed ribbons beneath her chin. She picked up her reticule and moved toward the door. Easier not to talk. Easier simply to get this entire venture over with.

Burlington had two dressmakers’ shops, but Tanner led her to a large general store instead. Abby had never bought a ready-made dress. She and her mother had sewn all their own clothes. Only their shoes had come ready-made. Being faced now with so many choices was a little daunting.

“This brown and white calico is very practical,” the shopkeeper’s wife said, urging Abby to feel the skirt. “It’s sturdy fabric and very well made.”

“She needs something finer,” Tanner put in before Abby could reply. “We’re heading for Chicago.”

“Oh. A city dress. Well, why didn’t you say so?” The little woman’s brows lifted and she deftly steered them down the narrow aisle. “Here. You’ll find these far more appropriate for town.”

When she held out a beautiful apple-green-and-cream outfit, Abby couldn’t help giving Tanner a doubtful glance. “They’re awfully dear,” she murmured for his ears only when she spied the price. Twelve dollars! She could buy fabric for half a dozen dresses for that price. But the woman overheard her remark.

“We have others not quite so costly. This pretty pink dress. This mauve-sprigged walking dress.”

“I like the first one,” Tanner said, fingering the rich sateen of the green dress. He studied Abby a moment. “It’s the same color as your eyes.”

The woman agreed enthusiastically, but Abby swiftly looked away. She knew her cheeks already flooded with color. Why must he say things like that? Why had he come in with her at all? He could just as easily have claimed one of the chairs out front on the boardwalk and waited for her to shop.

“Shall you try it on, madam?”

Abby squared her shoulders, then faced the expectant woman. “Yes, that will be fine.”

“And bring her whatever accessories she might need. A hat. Gloves. And the rest.” Thankfully Tanner did not go into further detail, or Abby would have been completely mortified. Bad enough that she was shopping with a man unrelated to her. Discussing undergarments would be unthinkable.

“Your wife is going to look breathtaking in this,” the shopkeeper assured Tanner as she bustled off to assemble the rest of what was needed. “Simply breathtaking.”

His wife. Inside, Abby cringed, but if Tanner was concerned by the woman’s mistake, he didn’t give any indication. To cover her own nervousness, Abby whispered, “I can’t afford all this.”

“I can,” came his whispered reply.

“No. I don’t want—”

“Your grandfather will reimburse me.” He took her arm and steered her toward the back of the store, where the woman awaited them. “And his money will soon be your money,” he added more curtly. “The fact is, Abby, you can afford to buy anything you want. This whole damn store, if you take a notion to it.”

He waited outside while the shopkeeper helped Abby change. Abby went through the motions: donning the featherlight chemise; holding her arms out while the woman tightened the latest style of corsets around her; stepping into the several layers of petticoats, then lifting her arms to allow the dress to be slipped over her head. She twisted and turned as instructed, but all the while she worried over Tanner’s last remark.

He was angry at her, that much was obvious. He was angry, and she figured it was because her grandfather was wealthy and therefore she soon would be wealthy too.

But that wasn’t her fault. If anything, it was Tanner’s fault. He was the one who’d tracked her down and then dragged her off against her will. What right had
he
to be angry with her?

“Don’t you like it, madam?”

Abby glanced at the waiting woman and, when she spied her concerned expression, realized that she must have been scowling. Pasting on a more pleasant expression, she swiftly turned her gaze toward the tall tailor’s mirror in the corner, then couldn’t disguise her shock. She looked … she looked better than she’d ever looked before. Something about the bright green color, one she’d never worn.

The shopkeeper must have sensed Abby’s changed mood, for she stepped forward, beaming proudly. She tugged at the left side of the skirt and straightened a ruffle on one of the wrists. “A fine choice, if I do say so myself, Your husband will surely be pleased when he sees you.”

Would he? Abby wondered, ignoring the fact that he wasn’t her husband at all. Would Tanner be pleased by what he saw? “Yes, a very fine choice,” she agreed.

Abby walked out of the store wearing the green dress. She was as heartsore as ever, but she certainly felt a lot more self-confidence than before. Tanner followed after settling the bill. Her other purchases—a traveling costume, a nightgown, a pair of kid-leather shoes, two pairs of stockings, and more—and a trunk to hold them all would be delivered to the hotel later. Meanwhile they were to have dinner, and she would test her newfound confidence upon his wary defenses.

His eyes had widened when she’d first walked out of the dressing room into the crowded store. His eyes had widened, and for one long, wonderful moment all his emotions had been laid bare for her to see. He’d actually been struck dumb. He’d stared without saying a word, just looking at her—drinking her in, it had felt to her. Only the shopkeeper’s smug interruption had brought him back in focus. The woman had boasted about the quality and the value and the stylishness of the goods Abby had purchased, and he’d turned abruptly away from Abby.

But that was all right, she thought now, taking in a deep breath of warm evening air. That was all right. He’d been impressed by how she had looked, and that was all she needed to know. It occurred to her that they had the rest of the evening to spend together, then the train ride to Chicago. Did she dare try one more time to break through his damnable control?

The fact that she was actually plotting to seduce him should have shocked her more. But Abby was past that. She was not the same girl who’d left Lebanon just a few short months ago. She was on her own now. The direction of her life was in
her
hands—no matter
what
her grandfather and Tanner thought. It was up to her to get what she wanted, and whether it was foolish or not, she wanted Tanner.

They moved down the boardwalk side by side, not touching. When they neared a group of men outside a saloon, however, he took her elbow, guiding her—claiming her, she preferred to think when several of the men turned to look at her and tipped their hats.

“The restaurant’s just a little farther,” Tanner murmured once they were past the cluster of men. But he kept his hand on her arm, and Abby felt a surge of hope. If he was affected by their slight touch only half as much as she, her plan was well on its way to working, for she found herself hardly able to breathe.

At the entrance to McDowell’s Restaurant he moved his hand to her waist, and for a moment a wave of lightheadedness washed over her. Nothing she’d ever read in any novel had prepared her for the impact of even the lightest and most impersonal of Tanner’s touches. The fanciful thought occurred to her that if she could but impart this giddy feeling in words to readers, she could assure herself a place in literary history. Not a woman alive would be able to resist this delicious, sinking feeling.

Tanner’s thoughts were not very unlike Abby’s as he seated her at a corner table. If he made it through this evening in one piece, it would be a miracle. He ordered a whiskey even before the waiter could point out the menu on the chalkboard near the door. But Tanner had no interest in food. He needed a drink and he needed to get Abby locked into her own room—with a damned strong door between the two of them.

“I’m famished,” she said, smiling across the small table at him. “How about you?”

He hung his hat on a brass two-prong hook just above his head. “I can eat,” he retorted, staring intently at the chalkboard menu.

“I hope you’re not in a big rush,” she continued, her voice soft and musical. “It’s been so long since I could linger over a meal—a meal I didn’t have to prepare,” she added, smiling straight into his eyes.

Tanner swallowed and shifted his gaze to the fork and knife that lay before him. Gone were her remoteness and anger. One shopping trip and already she was smiling and happy. She pulled off the wrist-length butter-soft gloves she’d purchased, and despite himself he watched every movement of her hands. She was the most desirable woman he’d ever known, and now in that green dress she was only more so.

His eyes reluctantly returned to her face. Her eyes sparkled, warm and inviting. Her cheeks glowed with healthy color. Her dark hair glinted with golden lights in the lamplight, and in that moment he would have given every penny of his reward, and then some, for the chance to let that thick, shining mass of hair down. To slowly, slowly strip that silky green dress off her shoulders and slide it down past her hips—

The waiter placed the whiskey before him, and without thinking Tanner lifted the glass and downed it in one stinging gulp. The waiter raised his brows slightly, but he swiftly went back for a refill when Tanner wordlessly thrust the empty glass back at him.

Abby, to her credit, pretended not to notice. She was, after all, raised to be a lady, he reminded himself. Not like all the other women he’d known in his life.

He took a slow breath, then exhaled, willing himself to be calm, willing the whiskey to deaden the feelings she aroused in him. God help that waiter if he didn’t get here fast with that refill.

“What time does the train depart tomorrow?” Abby asked.

“Six-thirty.”

“And how long will the trip take?” she prompted when he did not elaborate.

“We should arrive about five-fifteen in the evening.”

He drummed his fingers restlessly on the table. Maybe she would get mad once she realized this wasn’t going to be a chatty meal. If she would just keep quiet, he could get himself under control.

But Abby seemed determined to talk, for she leaned forward, just enough for him to notice the thrust of her firm young breasts against the shimmering fabric of her bodice. “Does my grandfather know we’re arriving tomorrow?”

Tanner stared at her breasts and felt his body begin to react. Son of a bitch! Why had he bought her that dress?

“I wired him before I boarded the horses,” he muttered in a strained voice.

“I see.” She stared down at the table and ran one of her fingers back and forth along the edge of the striped cotton tablecloth. “Did he … did he have any message for me?”

Senseless as it was, that one hesitant question got to him more than anything else could have. Willard Hogan hadn’t sent a message to his only grandchild. His office had received the message and wired back a message that Tanner knew Hogan ordered: it’s about time. But nothing in the way of welcome for a frightened young woman.

He cleared his throat. “He said, ‘Welcome to the family,’ and that he was looking forward to meeting you.”

The waiter returned then, and while Abby ordered, Tanner downed the second whiskey, albeit a little more discreetly than the first. He shouldn’t have to cover up for the other man’s thoughtlessness, yet Tanner was glad he’d done it, for a faint but undeniable expression of relief had flitted across her face before she’d turned to the waiter.

She was scared, pure and simple. As much as Hogan had to offer Abby, he was still a stranger to her. And given the hard-bitten businessman’s curt manners and abrupt style, it was unlikely his welcome would be a warm one. At least not warm in the way Abby needed it to be.

Leaving Abby in Chicago was going to be hard, he admitted. Then another thought occurred to him. They’d been followed before by men who knew she was Tanner’s “prize.” Whoever had sent those men to stop them from reaching Chicago was still around. And he was bound to try the same thing again. Tanner would have to talk to Hogan. Make sure he protected Abby adequately. But he didn’t want Abby to know about it or to worry.

He ordered a steak and potatoes—and another whiskey—then leaned forward, frowning slightly. “Chicago may be a little overwhelming at first.”

“Will you be there?” she asked, also leaning forward. A hint of lilacs floated around him. Intriguing. Enticing. Had she put a little perfume on too? “I’d feel better if you stayed for a while,” she continued. “At least till I get settled.”