Rimfire Bride (23 page)

Just then, Drew came to the head of the stairs, meeting Sam. He knelt to give him a big hug, and when he did, Sam raised his face to stare angrily at Jana. Then he kissed his father and ran off to his room.

“Are you ready for this big evening?” Drew asked as he grabbed his coat from the hall tree and slipped it on.

“I am,” Jana said as Drew took her arm in his. They went to a waiting buggy and climbed inside.

“I thought we might like the warmth tonight.” Drew put a large buffalo robe over the two of them, which of necessity caused them to sit close together.

“Do you like the theater?” Drew asked as they
drove through town, the hoofbeats of the horse echoing back loudly from the buildings that fronted the streets.

“I don’t know. I meant it when I said I’ve never been before.”

“Good.”

“Why good?”

“Because that means I’ll be the first one to ever take you to the theater. And it’ll be fun for me to experience something for the first time again, through your eyes.”

“Drew, you’ll find that I’m a person of very little experience in anything. I was born in Germany, I came to America when I was eight, and I was raised on a small farm. The only time I’ve ever been out on my own was when I went to college, and that was only fifteen miles away from home.”

Drew reached over to take her hand. “You’re on your own now though. But don’t worry. I’ll be here to guide you through the rough spots.”

Jana didn’t know what, exactly, Drew meant by that. But she did like the feel of her hand in his, and his words did make her feel protected.

Two hundred people
were in the audience at Whitney’s Opera House as the show opened with a duet by a man and a woman. That was followed by a comedic routine by John Coburn. Drew had told her that Coburn was quite well-known, having appeared in theaters all over the States. Next was a song-and-dance number, followed by Coburn’s making another appearance. The night continued
like that with songs followed by dance routines, with Coburn performing between each act.

When the curtain came down for the final time and the applause finally ended, the gas lamps in the hall were turned up bright enough for the theatergoers to exit the auditorium. Drew put his hand on Jana’s arm to help her up the inclined aisle, which was crowded with people.

“What did you think of your first theater experience?” Drew asked.

“Oh, I’ve never had a more enjoyable evening! What a delight to hear the music, to watch the dancing, and Mr. Coburn”—Jana shook her head—“I’ve never laughed so hard in my life!”

Drew held up a finger, then began to sing one of John Coburn’s ditties. “ ‘Bless the wives who fill our lives with little bees and honey. They ease life’s shocks, they mend our socks—but, oh, how they spend our money!’ ”

Jana laughed. “That’s very good; you should be on the stage.”

“Why, thank you.”

“ ‘There’s one leaving in half an hour,’ ” Jana added, quoting one of the jokes she had heard, and they both laughed.

“I don’t think you would, though,” Drew said more seriously.

“You don’t think I would what?”

“Be the kind of wife who would recklessly spend my money.”

Jana stared at Drew. “Believe me, Mr. Malone, if there is one thing I do have, it’s an appreciation
for frugality.” She turned and hurried to the standing buggy.

Drew was sorry for his comment. He thought he had said it in a joking way, but he didn’t think that was how Jana had taken it.

When Drew stopped the buggy in front of the hotel, he hopped out to tie off the horse, then came around to help Jana down.

“Thank you for an enjoyable evening,” Jana said.

“Oh, I’ll walk you inside. I want Hank to know what a responsible citizen I am.”

Taking her arm, Drew led her into the hotel lobby, where, once again, they found Hank sleeping in the chair.

“Let’s not wake him,” Drew whispered. “I’ll walk you up to your room.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to do it.”

They walked arm in arm up the stairway until they reached the third floor.

“This is my floor,” Jana said, turning to Drew.

He looked down the long, narrow hallway flanked on both sides by closed doors. A couple of wall-mounted gas lamps hissed quietly and emitted an orange light that lit the way. Behind the stairway Drew saw a small alcove that was dark save for the dim splash of light that did little to illuminate it. Drew stepped into the alcove and pulled Jana in with him, though not forcefully so.

As Drew looked at her, Jana saw a smoldering flame in his eyes, and she felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach. He moved toward her, paused
for a moment, and, encountering no resistance, entangled his hand in her hair and pulled her lips to his. The kiss began innocently enough, no more than the brush of lips soft and tentative, as if he were exploring the bounds, but when she offered no resistance, the kiss deepened. She felt his tongue trace the soft fullness of her lips, and the kiss sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. His mouth covered hers hungrily, then, as it had when they kissed in front of the hardware store after the Thanksgiving dance, his tongue slipped through her lips to explore her mouth.

At first she was concerned that here, in the hall of the very hotel where she lived, they might be discovered, and she thought to resist. But then she felt new spirals of ecstasy racing through her, leaving her mouth burning with fire, and she knew she would offer no resistance whatsoever. When his tongue withdrew from her mouth, she followed it with her own tongue, returning the kiss with reckless abandon.

During the kiss his hands were busy; one moved down from her hair to massage the back of her neck, the other went farther down to begin gathering up folds of the black material and, by so doing, began to lift the hem of the skirt. Jana could feel the soft touch of air as more and more of her leg was exposed until, finally, Drew was able to slip his hand under the skirt to her hips and thighs, the touch of his fingers on her bare skin sending pleasant jolts through her.

Jana lost all control of herself, becoming totally subservient to Drew’s will and demand. She could
no more break off this kiss than she could fly, and though a weak cry, far back in her mind, warned her against going too far, every emotion and sensation in her body silenced that voice.

Drew had not expected such easy acquiescence and was now torn between two conflicting emotions: the one to avoid taking unfair advantage of this woman, whose naïveté was such that he feared she wasn’t quite aware of where this could lead, and the other to explore the parameters of this kiss. How far would she let him go before she asked him to stop? Would she ask him to stop, or was she as caught up in the maelstrom of sensations as he?

It was dark enough here, they could move back, deeper into the alcove, and no one would ever be the wiser. Why not give in to the need that was clearly driving them both?

Drew moved his mouth to her throat to kiss the pulsing hollow. He felt her trembling against him—or was he trembling against her? It was a most unusual sensation for him; he had been married, and he had fathered two children, yet he couldn’t recall ever experiencing a craving this intense.

Was Jana feeling a desire as great as his? He was certain that she was, and he cast aside all caution as he undid the clasp of her cloak and began moving his lips down, searing a path across her shoulders, then untying the triangle of cloth that covered her shoulders, he opened the top buttons of her blouse and moved his lips onto the creamy tops of her breasts, feeling, as much as hearing, her rapturous moan.

Then he heard footfalls coming up the steps!

Although every part of Drew’s body ached to go forward, somehow he found enough control to stop before compromising the delightful creature over whom he now had complete mastery.

Oh, why did
he stop?
Jana screamed in her mind so loudly that she must surely have spoken them. But she knew that she had not, and even as she realized that, she knew why he had stopped, for now she, too, could hear footsteps.

Quickly they stepped back out into the hall and started toward her room, Jana refastening her buttons as she walked.

“Here!” Hank’s voice challenged. “What are you doing up here on this floor?”

Her buttons now back in place, Jana turned toward Hank with a big smile on her face. “Hello, Hank. When Mr. Malone brought me home from the Opera House, you had fallen asleep in your chair and we didn’t want to disturb you.”

“So I offered to see her safely to her room,” Drew added.

“Oh, Hank, I wish you’d gone to the theater with us. It was one of the most delightful things I’ve ever done,” Jana said.

Hank smiled. “Now you’re just bein’ polite. I know you wouldn’t really want me to go with you and your young man, but I do appreciate your sayin’ that.” He looked at Drew. “You said somethin’ about walkin’ her to her room?”

“Yes.”

“All right, go ahead and do it. I’ll wait here for
you, and we can go back down the stairs together; then I can see you out.”

Drew smiled. “Yes, I sort of expected you’d say that.”

Drew walked Jana to her room, then stopped and looked back toward Hank. Jana’s self-appointed guardian was standing in the middle of the hall with his arms folded across his chest, staring down toward them.

“Who made him your bodyguard?”

“I think it’s sweet.”

Drew kissed her lightly on the lips, then pulled away from her. “What if I went into your room with you? What do you think he would do?”

“He’d probably come through the door with an ax.”

Drew chuckled. “I think you might be right. Good night, Jana.”

“Good night, Drew.”

Drew walked back down the hall to Hank. “Hank, do you know where I can get a ladder tall enough to reach her bedroom window?”

“What?” Hank nearly shouted. “Why would you want a ladder to reach her window?”

Drew laughed. “You’re right. It’s probably not a good idea.”

“All right, boys
and girls, please close your copybooks and put them in your desks. Be careful to clean your nib before you put your pen away, and make certain the top is tightly placed on your ink and the bottle is resting in its well,” Della Peterson
said as she erased the blackboard at the front of the room. “I will expect you to write the letter
P
twenty times on your slate and show it to me tomorrow. When the counting sticks are put away and the readers are in their place, we shall prepare for dismissal.”

The children cleared off their desks and put their things away, then waited quietly for the dismissal.

“First row may rise.”

The children in the first row stood by their desks.

“Pass,” Della said, and the children went to get their coats off the hooks in the long, narrow cloakroom behind the classroom.

She went through the same regimen with the subsequent rows, but when Sam Malone started into the cloakroom, she called out to him, “Samuel, would you come to my desk please?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam walked to the teacher’s big desk. He purposefully shuffled his feet along the boards of the classroom, making a sound as he moved slowly to the front.

“Your reading recitation was not very good today. I would like for you to recite today’s lesson again for me.” Della opened the
Swinton’s Reader
to the page the beginners had read earlier in the day. “Read this for me, please.”

Sam began to read: “ ‘A big pig and six little pigs. Do not whip the pigs with the big whip! No, I will not whip them. Run, little pigs! Run, big pig!’ ”

He read the page without missing a single word, waiting for Miss Peterson’s comment.

“Your father has been seeing a lot of that woman who poses in Mr. Watson’s window, hasn’t he?”

“You mean Jana?”

“I’ve been told her name is Miss Hartmann. That would be the polite way to address her.”

“She said to call her Jana.”

“Do you like Miss Hartmann?”

“She’s all right, I guess.”

“But you don’t like her very much. Is that right?”

“I don’t want a new mama.” Tears welled in Sam’s eyes.

“Oh, dear, has it come to that? You loved your mother very much, didn’t you?”

With his chin quivering, Sam nodded.

“You loved your mama, and now here comes a woman who wants to take her place. But you and I both know that nobody can ever take your mama’s place. Now, what does your father have to say about this?”

Sam didn’t answer.

“Does he know you don’t want that woman in your house?”

Again Sam nodded. “I told him.”

“And what did he say?”

The child did not answer. He began tracing circles on the floor with the toe of his shoe.

Della took a piece of paper from her desk, dipped a pen into the inkwell, and began to write in clear, easy-to-read cursive. When she was finished, she took out a blotter and dried the ink, then folded the paper over and put it in an envelope.

“Give this note to your father as soon as he comes home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When Sam arrived
home after school, he said nothing to Elfrieda about the note, but as soon as Drew came in, Sam gave it to him.

“What’s this?” Drew unsealed the envelope and withdrew the note.

“It’s from Miss Peterson.”

“Well, let’s see what she has to say about her very best scholar.”

Dear Mr. Malone,

It is with some trepidation that I address you with my concerns for Samuel. For some time now, he has been distracted and withdrawn. I assumed that it was because he still missed his mother, although as it has been nearly two years, and he was so young when the tragedy occurred, I could not understand why his melancholy has lingered so.

But now, after a brief conversation with him, I am able to see the problem more clearly. I believe you are making a grave mistake by carrying on so with Miss Hartmann. I’m sure that you can see that a woman who exposes herself so shamelessly for all to see, is hardly the kind of person you want to introduce to a boy as sensitive as Samuel.