Lucas leaned back in his chair. The meal hadn’t really been all that bad, for a first effort. He had expected worse. He had also expected to find her completely bedraggled and worn out from the day’s load, which was probably more work than she had done in her life, much less all in one day. But she didn’t look done in, she looked good, too damn good.
She had changed her dress and now wore a splendid garment of olive-green foulard silk with a dark, myrtle-green leaf pattern, trimmed with ecru Oriental lace. This gown had a square neck, not cut very deeply, and three-quarter-length sleeves. She had found another apron and was wearing two to protect her gown.
His eyes followed her as she flitted from counter to sink to table and back. She had been on his mind the whole damn day, and he had been forced to keep busy just so he wouldn’t be tempted to seek her out. He couldn’t remember a woman ever intruding on his thoughts like that before. No woman had ever affected him so much. The plain fact was, he wanted her. He admitted now that such had been the case ever since he’d seen her picture. Being there in the flesh, she inflamed him. It was almost more than his body could stand.
There were no two ways about it. If he was this hot for her after having her there only one day, then there was no way in hell he could stop himself from making love to her before he sent her away. It was not what he’d planned, but he wasn’t going to fight it. If she were a virgin, he’d have had to give the problem more thought, but she wasn’t a virgin.
“Did I tell you how lovely you look in that gown?” he heard himself saying.
Sharisse glanced over her shoulder at him. “This old thing? Good heavens, Mr.…Lucas. I look a fright. I intended to change to an evening dress before dinner, but the time got away from me.”
Lucas grinned to himself. Pity the man who saw her looking her best, then. Ladies and their endless array of clothing ensembles, each suited to a particular part of the day! With all the changing they did, it was a wonder they found time for anything else. But then, a lady’s day did not include work. This one was finding out about that the hard way.
He felt a twinge of guilt over putting her through this. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford servants. But a rich, idle rancher was not the image he was in Newcomb to promote. He was simply an Easterner who had cashed in his chips, yearning for the quiet life the West offered. He wanted no one to suspect how wealthy he really was.
Lucas moved up behind her, the urge to touch her almost overwhelming as he picked up her subtle scent. But he grabbed the dish towel instead.
“I’ll help you finish.”
He surprised himself with that offer. He didn’t want her overburdened, though, not yet, anyway. And her smile of thanks was worth the effort. She was so lovely when she smiled.
The last dish put away, they returned to the table, Sharisse bringing the coffee pot with her. Lucas declined any more of the weak brew and gathered a bottle and glass from a shelf before he sat down.
Sharisse frowned. “Do you do that often?” she asked hesitantly, looking at the whiskey.
“I can safely assure you I’m not a drunk if that thought is crossing your mind.”
“I’m sorry.” Sharisse lowered her eyes to the table, embarrassed by her own effrontery. “It was an impertinent question.”
“You’re entitled to know.”
Her eyes met his again. “Then perhaps you’re ready now to tell me all?”
He leaned back thoughtfully, the glass of whiskey in his hand. “We were born in St. Louis, my brother and I. The family on our mother’s side was one of the more prominent in the city. She died, and after that, our father, Jake, wanted nothing more to do with her family. He brought us out here to Arizona. Gold drew him, and the promise of his own wealth.”
“He was a prospector?” Sharisse was surprised, though she knew she shouldn’t be. Gold had drawn thousands of people west since the early ’50s.
Lucas nodded. “My brother and I were stuck in a boardinghouse in Tucson while he prospected the surrounding mountains for gold. The trouble was, he found it. A big strike. It led to his death. That was in ’66.”
“You mean he was killed?”
“Killed for his claim.” He nodded.
“But wouldn’t his claim have gone to you boys?”
“By rights, yes, so we had to be disposed of, too.”
She couldn’t believe how casually he was saying it all. “What did you do?”
“Hightailed it out of town.” Lucas looked away, then continued. “Sloan, the man who shot our father, was hot on our trail so he could tidy up the loose ends, you might say.”
“My God! What kind of monster was he, to hunt down children? You couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve.”
“Ten, actually,” he said grimly. “He was a hired gun, a man who kills for money without asking for reasons. The West has quite a few of that indiscriminate breed.”
“You got away from him?”
“Not exactly. Shots were fired, and my brother went down a rocky gorge. With Sloan right behind me, I couldn’t go back for him. I had to ride on. But after I finally lost Sloan, I was lost myself. It took me several days to find my way back to where Slade had fallen, and by then there was no sign of him. There was nothing left to do but make my way to St. Louis, hoping he had done the same.”
