Susan Mallery - Wild Hearts

“He has given a lot to people,” Daisy went on. “Much is done quietly.” She glanced around, as if making sure they were alone in the back of the store, then spoke in a lowered voice. “Whenever a woman loses a husband, we always send over a big box of supplies. Dry goods, fabric, whatever we know they need. Zeke helps pay for that. He slaughters a handful of cows every year and gives the meat away. He’s the one who paid for your new schoolhouse.”

Which made him sound like a leading citizen. “But what about the gambling?”

“That wasn’t good,” Daisy admitted. “He stopped years ago, but while he was playing, there were bad times in town. I guess he grew up. Accepted his responsibilities.”

“Except when it comes to the schoolteachers,” Alethea said, then pressed her lips together.

Her friend laughed. “Don’t worry about your reputation. The more we get to know you, the more we’re convinced you’re the one woman who can stand up to Zeke Titan.”

Alethea hoped that was true. “The other women he was with, the ones who were sent away. Were there…” She cleared her throat. “There were children involved, were there not?”

Daisy shook her head. “Not that I know of. Zeke was real careful that way.” She put down the box of wool. “I know he’s wild and flouts the rules. Still, there’s something about him we all like.”

“He’s prideful.”

Daisy grinned. “Show me a man who isn’t.” Her gaze sharpened. “You’re not going to give in to Zeke, are you? We’re counting on you to defeat him.”

Alethea thought about her last encounter with Zeke. There seemed to be little chance of his pursuing her now.

“No. I won’t be giving in. Fear not.”

“But he is a charming devil. I can tell you that more than one lady in town had hoped to be the one to change his ways. He’ll settle down eventually and whoever he chooses will be a lucky woman.” Daisy leaned close. “I’ve heard stories from the young women who were with him. They were forever changed. Apparently Zeke knows things about a woman’s body.”

“Immoral things,” Alethea said quickly, even as she wondered what they could be. Her intimate time with her husband had always been pleasant. A warm joining of bodies and spirit. She’d looked forward to him holding her and kissing her. The actual act itself was less appealing, although there had been one time when he’d spent long minutes touching her between her legs. She’d felt something amazing, a rush of pleasure that had taken her breath away.

It had been dark and she’d done her best to make sure Wesley hadn’t known how she’d had to scream into her pillow to keep him from hearing. He’d never touched her that way again and she hadn’t had the courage to ask.

Did Zeke do that? Did he touch a woman between her legs until she had to scream into a pillow? Were there other things?

Not the point, she thought, wondering why it was suddenly so warm in the storeroom. It appeared she had misjudged him. The fact that he was seducing her so that she had to leave was beside the point. She’d been wrong about him. Had assumed the worst. She owed him an apology and he would have it.

Alethea sent Zeke a carefully worded note, inviting him to dinner. The note was sent back with an equally polite refusal. She used Daisy’s oven to bake a cake and sent it to him. It was sent back uneaten. The next day, he passed her on the street and politely tipped his hat, but in no other way acknowledged her.

Alethea didn’t like feeling that she was in the wrong, and if Zeke wouldn’t even allow her to apologize, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to fix things. As a last resort, she slipped a single piece of paper under his door at the hotel.

“To err is human, to forgive, divine.” Alexander Pope.

Later than evening, she noticed the paper had been returned. Under her line, Zeke had written one of his own.

“It is easier to forgive an enemy than a friend.” William Blake.

Meaning what? They were friends? Or did he prefer to think of her as an enemy?

She spent most of the night coming up with a suitable response.

“Action is eloquence.” William Shakespeare. Underneath she carefully wrote, “I am truly sorry.” She slipped the note under his door on her way to breakfast.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning. Alethea had promised herself she would clean out the schoolhouse, but the warm, sunny day tempted. Maybe just a couple of hours of cleaning, she told herself. Then she would be free to enjoy the rest of the day.

She dressed in her oldest blouse and tied a scarf around her hair. Armed with a bucket, rags and a broom, she went to the school and began dusting every surface. She used wet rags to wipe down desks and windowsills.

In a month, when school was out for the summer, the building would be emptied and painted, repairs done. But until then, her morning of cleaning would have to do.

She swept the hardwood floor, coughing at the dust, then put a damp rag on her broom and used it to get up the worst of the dirt and marks. Close to noon, hot and flushed and damp from her labor, she assembled her supplies, prepared to walk back to town. As she closed and locked the door behind her, she noticed someone sitting on the bench by the window. The man was sprawled in his seat, his long legs stretched in front of him, his hat covering most of his face.

Even without seeing his face, she recognized Zeke. Aware she was not at her best, she thought about slipping away while he slept. But the need to speak to him, to apologize, was too great. She moved toward him.

Before she could reach him, he straightened and pushed his hat back in place.

“You about done in there?” he asked.

“You watched me work?”

“You sweep with vigor, Mrs. Harbaugh.”

“I try to apply myself to all my tasks,” she said, staring into his dark eyes. “Including apologizing to you…” She hesitated, then added, “Zeke.”

“I got your notes,” he said, studying her, his gaze moving over her face, then down her dress.

“And the cake.”

“Yes, that, too. You’re determined. I’ll give you that.” He stood and gave her a slow smile that made her insides go all shaky. “And I forgive you, Alethea.”

Relief tasted sweet. “It was an understandable mistake to make,” she pointed out.

“Now there you go, ruining a perfectly good apology.” He nodded toward town. “I’ll let it go, however, if you take a walk with me.”

She thought about the dust on her clothes and the possible smudges on her face. “I must look a sight.”

“I could do without the rag in your hair,” he admitted.

“Oh.” She’d forgotten about that. She pulled it free before realizing she’d forgotten to pin up her hair that morning. The long, loose curls tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. She tried to smooth her hair.

“I look like a schoolgirl,” she said self-consciously.

When he responded with “You look beautiful,” she couldn’t help her flush. He pointed to a grove of trees up a ways. “Let’s go there.”

She set her cleaning supplies by the bench and walked with him toward the trees. He stopped by the water pump.

“You must be thirsty after all your cleaning. Have some water.”

He reached out and worked the pump. Water gushed into the bucket below.

Alethea cupped her hands to catch the liquid, but her hair fell forward, getting in her way. Before she could figure out what to do, Zeke had stopped pumping. He ran his hands down the length of her hair, which meant touching her shoulders and back, before collecting it in one hand and pumping with the other.

It was an intimate act, she thought, a little flustered. She gulped water too quickly, then nearly choked. When she straightened, he released her hair, although she had a feeling they were standing much too close.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded.

He leaned in and lightly brushed her cheek. “You have a bit of dirt there.”

His touch was warm and gentle. She found herself leaning into him. His eyes were dark in color but bright with a light she couldn’t explain. Seeing it made her feel a little flustered.

“You enjoy thinking the worst of me,” he murmured.

“I don’t enjoy it,” she corrected. “I find it easy to believe. Because of your reputation.”

“With schoolteachers.”

She nodded. “That a town would allow such debauchery, condone it, is appalling.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “You will be pleased to know that I have been informed you are not to be tampered with, my dear Alethea. You have many friends in town and they are demanding I behave.”

They were standing so close, she could feel his breath on her face. The sweet scent of mint mingled with coffee.

“Will you listen to their demands?” she asked.

“They have assured me if I do not, the consequences will be severe, to say the least.”

“Not anything you would fear.”

He raised his eyebrows. “One could almost believe you wanted me to ignore them.”

“I assure you, sir, I have no interested in being trifled with. My work means everything to me. I care for my students and have no desire to leave them.”

“Would you leave?”

“I would have to, as you well know. Should my reputation be compromised, I would be forced to return to Baltimore.” The words were more for herself than for him. Zeke tempted her in a way she’d never experienced before. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she thought it might break loose and fly away. Everything but the man in front of her blurred and was of no consequence. She longed for something…for…

He leaned forward that last inch and kissed her. A soft, gentle brush of his mouth on hers. She felt the contact all the way down to her toes. Every part of her body surged toward him, and without knowing what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips.

He obliged her by deepening the kiss, even as he pulled her hard against him. Her breasts were flat against his chest, her belly rubbing his. Their legs touched. But none of that compared to the sweet dance of his tongue.

Zeke kissed with the easy confidence of a man comfortable with a woman in his arms. There were no tentative stops and starts, no apologies. Just a heart-stirring, tingle-producing kiss.

She wanted more, she thought hazily, giving herself up to the sensations flooding her. She wanted to know what it was like to be with him the way she’d been with…

Alethea did not allow herself to complete the thought. Not only was it dangerous, it was foolish. She wrenched herself from the pleasure that was Zeke’s arms and stared at him.

This man was not trying to win her. Quite the contrary. His carefully designed plan was to disgrace her so she would be forced to leave town. He wasn’t her friend or her lover. He was her adversary.

How unfortunate, she thought as she turned and ran toward town. How unfortunate that she seemed to be falling for him.

Zeke shuffled the cards with familiar ease. He’d spent hours practicing every day as a kid, had learned to know which cards were most likely to come up next in a well-shuffled deck. He’d taught himself to read people’s eyes, their affectations, to understand when the bet was based on what his opponent had in his hand and when it was a bluff.

Now as he waited for his friends to join him for a friendly game, he found himself wishing he were having dinner with Alethea rather than spending time with Billy, Big John and Evan. She would make him laugh with her views on everything from literature to the weather. She would challenge him and later, when he kissed her, he would feel the pull of an irresistible desire.

There was something about her, he admitted to himself. Something…unique. He’d known a lot of women in his life-he enjoyed women. But none like her. Just thinking about her in his bed was enough to-

His fingers slipped and the cards went flying. Conversation in the saloon stilled as everyone stared at him. He shrugged, then bent down to retrieve the cards.

“Damned society,” one of the men muttered. “Soon the river will start flowing backward.”

Zeke picked up the last card just as his friends approached the table. Billy settled next to him while John and Ethan moved toward the bar.

“I almost didn’t make it,” Billy grumbled. “She wanted me to stay home and read to the children. Read to them!” He sounded outraged. “I told her that raisin’ our boys was woman’s work.” He lowered his voice and leaned toward Zeke. “You know what she said to me?”

Zeke shook his head.

“That if I wanted them to grow into men, I’d better start payin’ attention to them.”

“Is she wrong?”

“What?” Billy’s eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”