She stood, picked up a hankie from the table and twisted it in her hands, seemingly unaware of her nervous action. “Where will you sleep?” she asked.
“Here.”
“In the bed?”
“I’m tired of sleeping on the sofa.”
She appeared thoughtful. For long seconds her eyes looked everywhere but at him. Then she said, “Okay. We’ll try, on my terms, right?”
“Right.”
“And you don’t have to sleep on the sofa anymore.” She smiled, the first smile he’d seen on her lips in weeks.
Kit smiled back. It had worked!
She walked over to the armoire and opened it. She turned around with a blanket in her hands and she threw it at him. It hit him right in the chest. “You can sleep in the chair.”
19
Hallie pulled the coverlet over the pillows the next morning, then walked over to the chair and folded Kit’s blanket. His pipe and tobacco pouch sat on the small table, and some colored paper stuck out from beneath the pouch. Hallie strained to read the writing, but it was too small. She glanced at Kit. He was delving through the dresser drawers, cursing under his breath.
She used the folded blanket to block his view, and slid one of the papers out from under the pouch, straining to try to read it.
“They’re theater tickets, for tonight.”
Hallie jumped at the sound of his voice, reading into the depths of her devious mind. He had a perfect view of her actions because he was on his hands and knees, looking at her while he felt around underneath the dresser.
“We’re going with Lee.”
“Who’s going?”
“We are, you and I, husband and wife.” He leaned into the dresser, still searching.
The theater. Hallie’d never been to a theater, not ever. She watched for a moment, both stunned and excited.
“Where the hell is that thing?” Kit straightened and immediately grabbed his lower back, groaning.
“Are you all right? What thing?”
He grabbed the dresser and stood, slowly and stiffly. “I can’t find my brush.” He started opening and closing the drawers again.
His brush?Hallie’s mind flashed with the picture of Liv, using Kit’s brush on her cat. While he slammed around the room, Hallie walked across the hall and retrieved the brush. She walked back into the room and held it out to a grumbling Kit. “Is this it?”
He spun around, scowling. He glanced at the brush and then grabbed it, drawing it through his thick curly hair before Hallie had a chance to warn him.
“Where was it?”
Hallie stepped closer, automatically brushing the cat hair from the shoulders of his white shirt.
He stopped brushing his hair. “What are you doing?”
Hallie smiled. “Brushing the cat hair off your clean shirt.”
He examined the brush. “Liv?”
Hallie nodded, biting back her grin. She plucked the brush out of his hand and walked away. “I’ll clean this for you. After all, I wouldn’t want to be accused of shirking my wifely duties.” She left the room laughing.
“I’ll be right back.”Kit jumped down from the carriage and loped up to the door of a narrow brick building.
