He kissed her gently at first, just tasting of her, of her freshness, of the purity of her. There was no doubt in his mind that he was the first man who had ever touched her, ever held her, ever put his lips on hers. Some part of his brain remembered that when he first met her she had been hostile and prickly, but he couldn’t reconcile that woman with the soft one in his arms. She opened up to him in a way that no woman ever had before. And in her kiss was something he couldn’t identify, something that he had never tasted before. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was love. But that wasn’t possible. There was nothing between them.
There was pain in his arm in its sling, but he didn’t feel it when he wrapped both arms around her, then used his good left hand to turn her head so he could taste her lips more deeply. He sucked on her bottom lip, gently drawing it into his own mouth, and he was sure he’d never tasted anything sweeter.
It was some minutes before he heard Rowena’s voice. Judging by her tone, she had been trying to get his attention for some time.
Reluctantly, with difficulty, he turned to look at Rowena, seeing her in a haze, as though she were far away. He still held Dorie firmly in his arms, not willing to release her soft, pliant body. Besides, she was so limp she would have fallen if he’d released her.
“My goodness gracious,” Rowena said, her voice full of astonishment. “I thought I was going to have to throw a bucket of cold water on you two.” She was trying to make a joke, but it fell flat because she was facing two very confused people.
“Yes, well, I…” Cole began, stammering like a schoolboy. The body in his arms began to have some substance, and he knew he should release her, but he didn’t want to. It was some minutes before he realized that Miss Latham had her hands on his shoulders and was pushing against him rather hard.
“Mr. Hunter,” she was saying, “please release me.”
When Cole’s brain began to function again, all he could feel was embarrassment. “Yes, of course,” he said, then dropped Miss Latham as though she were forbidden, causing her to fall back against the sofa with a thud. But he didn’t reach down to help her. In fact he would have done most anything to keep from touching her again.
“I see that you two are in love,” Rowena said. “I had no idea that was the case. Dorie, how could you keep such a thing from me? Why didn’t you tell me? You let me believe that Mr. Hunter had no reason to save you from the robbers except that he was a man of great conscience, a man who cared about others, a man who—”
“A fool,” Cole said, beginning to recover himself. Running his hand over his eyes, he surreptitiously looked at Miss Latham and saw that she was as stunned as he was. If nothing like this had happened to a man of his experience, he was sure nothing like this had happened to her.
“You know what I think you two should do?” Rowena said in the voice of one who
had never faced an obstacle in her life. “I think you should get married right now. This minute.”
Dorie was beginning to recover herself. “Rowena, that’s ridiculous. Mr. Hunter—”
“Yes,” Cole heard himself saying. “That would be fine.”
Rowena took this statement in stride, not seeing the least problem with anything. “We shall go to the church this minute and—”
“No!” Dorie half shouted, and they both turned to look at her as she stood up, her fists at her sides.
“Dorie, your ankle!”
“Rowena, there is nothing wrong with my ankle except a bruise. One does not have to remain in bed for a bruise.” She turned to Cole. “I apologize, Mr. Hunter, for my sister. She loves to manage other people’s lives, and with her children and husband not here, she has only me and now you.” She straightened her back and looked at him. “I know that you and I talked about…about certain things, but that was days ago. Now things are different.”
“What is different?” he asked dryly.
Of course there was nothing different. In fact, everything was too real, and much too much the same. Rowena had come to Texas to get her boring little sister married, and she meant to do what needed to be done. Whether she married Dorie to a middle-aged bald man or to a gunslinger didn’t seem to make much difference to her.
“Rowena,” Dorie said softly, “could you leave us for a while? Mr. Hunter and I need to talk.”
Rowena laughed in what Cole thought was a vulgar way. “I’m not sure I should leave you two lovebirds alone. At least not until after the wedding.”
Cole was much too old to put up with a woman acting as though he were still in knee britches and needed a chaperon. He gave her the look that had made a few men decide not to draw on him.
“I…ah, I think I’ll wait just outside,” Rowena said, and skedaddled out the door.
Dorie spoke the minute her sister was out of the room. “Mr. Hunter, when you and I spoke several days ago, I made a fool of myself. When I was alone in Latham and I received a letter from my sister saying she was going to travel to America and then all the way to Texas to ‘sort me out,’ as she said, I’m afraid I panicked. When Rowena gets something in her head, she sees nothing else. She said she was sure that after Father died I’d stay in that house with my books and never get out to meet anyone, much less marry someone. Rowena also thinks that whatever makes her happy is what makes everyone happy. She loves being married, so she thinks I would, too.”
“Marriage is the only acceptable way to get those six kids you want.”
“Yes, well, at my age—nearly thirty—I’m a little old to start a family.”
“So your sister was right and you do plan to bury yourself.” As he was talking, he continued to look at her. It was hard to reconcile what he saw with what he had felt. She looked wooden, but she hadn’t felt that way. Maybe he was getting senile. Maybe he should visit Nina more often. But right now, Nina’s knowledge, her boredom, the way she talked at the wrong time—all that seemed dirty when compared to the freshness of Miss Latham.
“It isn’t your business or my sister’s what I do with my life!” Dorie snapped.
Cole knew she was right. He also knew he should walk out the door and never look back. But when had he ever done what he should do? He shouldn’t have left home at twelve years old. He shouldn’t have strapped on his first gun. If he hadn’t tried to save this scrawny woman from the bank robbers he wouldn’t be here now, wouldn’t have kissed her, wouldn’t have felt this way.