Kitabı oku: «Gold Rush Bride», sayfa 4
She’d be all right as long as she didn’t trip over anything. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the dark. But the cold! She shivered almost uncontrollably. Her feet were like ice, and the thin wool of her shift provided little protection against the chill air.
Well, if it were rats she’d feel awfully stupid. Sliding up beside the open door, Kate peeked slowly into the moonlit store. All was quiet. She could swear that something, or someone, was in there. Or had been a moment ago.
She scanned the floor and countertop, and the half-empty shelves for scurrying rodents. Nothing. Perhaps she’d been mistaken, after all. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d dreamed of vermin or insects creeping up on her. The Dublin tenement had been full of them.
Her nose wrinkled as she caught a whiff of kerosene. How strange. She’d filled the lanterns that afternoon but could swear she’d sealed the fuel tin. She stepped into the store, squinting toward the corner where her father had housed his tinned goods.
Two distinctly human footfalls sounded to her left. Without a second thought Kate whirled, leveled the pistol at the sound and fired. The blast shattered the silence.
A second later the intruder was on her. A scream rose up in her throat as he wrestled her to the floor, fighting for possession of the gun. His knees dug into her spread thighs and pinned her to the splintery floor.
“Let me go, you bleedin’ bastard!” The pistol jammed as she tried to fire again. No other choice left to her, she hit him with it—a sideways swipe in the dark that grazed his head.
“Son of a bitch!”
That voice! She could swear it belonged to—
He grabbed her wrist and squeezed so tight tears came to her eyes. She dropped the pistol, and in one quick move he pinioned both her arms above her head.
“Sweet Jesus!”
“Wrong. Guess again.”
His face was inches from hers. She could barely make out his features in the milky light but felt his breath hot on her face, and the tease of soft fur against her bare arms.
“Crockett!”
“Good guess. Give the lady a gold star.”
“Of all the—” She struggled beneath him, but was no match for his size and strength.
Crockett jerked her arms higher, forcing her back to arch and her breasts to press upward into his chest. His body radiated heat like the pig-iron furnaces in Clancy Street back home.
“Are you done, now?” He relaxed his grip on her, and she yanked her wrists free.
“Done with what? And get off me!”
He rolled off her, and she scrambled to her feet.
“Done trying to kill me. There’s a law against that kind of thing, you know. A wife kills her husband—well, that’s a hanging offense here in Tinderbox.”
“Husband, indeed!” She dashed to the lantern sitting on the countertop and lit it as Crockett got to his feet. An open window explained the cold, and how he’d gotten in. She swung it closed and latched it tight. “What the devil are you doing here?”
The soft lantern light played across his even features and reflected back at her from those black eyes. “I could ask you the same thing. You’re supposed to be at Vickery’s.”
“Oh, aye, and let ruffians break into my store in the night and steal me blind, I suppose?” She stepped toward him with the intent of chewing him out. Just who did he think he was, letting himself in and—
His gaze raked over her shift-clad form, and for the barest moment she read something in his eyes that made her heart stop. In a flash, she retrieved her shawl from the other room and pulled it tight around her body.
She could swear he was grinning somewhere under that stony expression of his. She took in his muddied boots and garments and his wild hair, which looked as if it hadn’t seen a comb since he left Tinderbox.
“Shouldn’t you be on the riverboat?”
His eyes grew cold again. “Any man in his right mind would be. But I’m not, am I?”
“But your ship, the steamer north…I thought that you—”
“There’s another one in a month. And that one I’ll be on, come hell or high water. Bet on it.”
“A month!”
He was supposed to sail now, this week, and be gone forever. That had been their bargain. That’s what he’d said, what everyone had been telling her for days. She wouldn’t have married him at all had he meant to stay on.
“What, exactly, do you intend to do for the next month?”
He moved toward her, his gaze pinned on hers. The tiniest spark of fear balled inside her. She backed toward the door leading to the street. “Su-surely you don’t think to…”
A dozen random thoughts raced through her mind. She realized that she knew nothing about him, only what little Mei Li and Mr. Vickery had told her. He could be anyone—a criminal, a murderer or…
He reached for her and her breath seized up in her chest.
“Stand aside.”
“W-what?”
His dark eyes narrowed, and she realized he wasn’t looking at her, but past her at the door. She breathed again and scooted sideways out of his light.
“Looks like there’s plenty to do around here for a month.”
“What do you mean?” Her gaze followed his and when she saw what he’d been eyeing she gasped. “Someone’s tried to jimmy the door!”
Crockett fiddled with the loose latch. “You haven’t seen Leon Packett around here, have you? Or his brother, Jed?”
Landerfelt’s men. The ones Will and Matt had thrashed the day before. Well, almost two days now. It was well past midnight. “No, I haven’t seen them. Why?”
Crockett shook his head. “Damned stupid.” The self-deprecating edge in his voice surprised her.
Then she noticed the blood. “You’re hurt.” Without thinking, she reached out and touched her finger to his temple.
“Yeah. Thanks.” He brushed her hand away. “Lucky your aim is as bad as your judgment.”
She felt bad about the incident. Nevertheless, it would have been his own fault had she killed him. What was he doing snooping around, looking for Jed Packett? She supposed she should be grateful. Clearly someone had been in the store.
She sniffed the air, remembering the kerosene. Padding to the dark corner, she peered at the open tin. She knew she’d closed it after filling the lamps. It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d forget to do.
Voices sounded from up the street, drawing their attention away from the fuel. Torchlight played off the glass of the storefront window, and a second later Matt Robinson’s concerned eyes peered through the glass. Two others huddled beside him, their guns drawn.
Crockett opened the door. “What’s wrong?”
“We was just about to ask you—er, Mrs. Crockett—the same thing.” Matt eyed Crockett’s rumpled clothes and the blood trickling from his temple. “We heard shots.”
“Just an accident.” Crockett retrieved her father’s pepperbox from the floor. “Miss Denning—Kate, I mean, was cleaning her pistol.”
“At two in the mornin’?” Matt cocked a tawny brow at the both of them. It was clear he didn’t believe it. “You two okay?”
“Fine,” they both said in a strained show of unity.
Matt Robinson wasn’t buying any of it, but the cautionary look in Crockett’s eyes kept him from probing further.
“That’s that, then.” Matt tipped his hat to her. “We’ll be gettin’ back to bed.” As he turned to leave, he shot Crockett a wicked grin. “So, ya decided not to go, after all.”
Crockett’s face hardened. He grunted some unintelligible response and kicked the door shut behind them.
Kate had had enough.
In a confrontational pose that had always garnered excellent results when questioning her brothers, she crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her chin at him. Crockett looked at her as if she were some mildly amusing annoyance.
“What now?” she said.
His gaze flashed on her bare feet. “I think it’s time we both got some sleep. I’ll just—”
“No. I want to know why you’re back, and exactly what your intentions are.”
He stared at her for a full ten seconds before answering, those black eyes fixed on hers. By God, if he thought he was going to intimidate her, let him think again.
“My reasons are my own business,” he said evenly. “As for my intentions…” He broke their deadlocked stare. “It’s a month till the next steamer north. You need protection, and I could use more cash. I’ll stay and work the store, until we both make enough to get the hell out of here.”
He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her. And there was something about his tone, a certain overconfidence, that she didn’t like.
“I don’t need protection.”
He twirled her father’s pistol around his little finger and cast a glance at the jimmied door latch. “All right. Suit yourself. I’ll be gone in the morning.” He slammed the pistol on the counter and turned to leave.
“Wait. I—”
There were a dozen good reasons she should boot him out and slam the door behind him. And a dozen more why she shouldn’t, not the least of which was the fact that he was right. She did need protection. And it might not hurt to have a man around, either. Much of the store’s stock was so heavy, the mining equipment in particular, she couldn’t lift it even with Mei Li’s help.
He looked at her, one dark brow arched in question, his hand on the broken door latch.
“I…I guess that would be all right,” she said. “But the cabin’s too small for us both. You’ll have to sleep outside.”
In Dublin she’d lived with her father and four brothers crowded into a basement flat smaller than this by half. The cabin was a palace by comparison.
No matter. It was just a tiny lie. One of many, she suspected, she’d be forced into over the next month. She’d save them all up and when she got home she’d have a nice long confession with her parish priest.
“That suits me fine.” Crockett yanked the door open and stepped into the night.
“Good night, then, Mr. Crockett.”
He slammed his fur hat onto his head and winced. The spot where she’d hit him had swelled to the size of an egg. “Good night Mrs. Crockett.” The words hung there between them as a bitter look twisted on his face.
She watched him as he stormed up the street, and had the gnawing feeling she was destined to burn in hell after all.
Chapter Five
Crockett’s Grocery and Dry Goods.
“Got a ring to it, don’t it?” Matt gathered up the borrowed stencils and horsehair paintbrush and stood back to admire his handiwork.
“Not particularly.” Will stared at the drying paint and ground his teeth.
The only other building he’d ever seen his family name on was built of hand-hewn granite and the finest imported marble one could buy. His mood darkened just thinking about it.
“Glad you decided to stay, Will.”
“I told you, I’m not staying. It’s just temporary.”
“Oh, right, I forgot.”
He caught Matt’s mischievous grin and was tempted to wipe it off that silly face of his.
“See ya around, then.” Matt waltzed up the street toward Cheng’s, whistling a bawdy miner’s tune.
Will swore.
Aside from the fact that he was out of his mind to have returned last night, two good things had come of it. He’d saved Dennington’s daughter’s hide. Again. And he’d foiled Landerfelt’s little plan, which gave him immense satisfaction.
He grabbed the homemade ladder leaning up against the store, swung it under his arm and started around to the back porch of the building he now owned. Before he turned the corner, he shot a glance across the street.
Landerfelt glared back at him, an unlit cigar crushed between his teeth, through the new pane of glass installed in his storefront window earlier that day. God knows where he’d got it, and what he had to pay to get it here.
On impulse, Will tipped his hat at him and smiled. Hell, yes. If he was going to be here another month, he might as well glean as much twisted pleasure out of the situation as possible.
Speaking of which…through the open side window of his new enterprise—the window he’d climbed through last night—he spied Kate behind the counter bargaining with two scraggly-looking miners.
He stowed the ladder and moved up close to the sill to watch her. Her back was to him. His gaze strayed lazily over the curve of her hips and the plump swell of her derriere.
His mind fixed on the image that had kept him awake half of last night…Kate standing in front of the lantern in her threadbare shift, the curves of her naked body silhouetted in the soft light. He recalled the feel of her struggling beneath him on the floor, her thighs pinned open by his, her breasts crushed against his chest.
Snap out of it, Crockett.
He reminded himself that their arrangement was a business deal. Not unlike the one his father had concocted with his last bride. This time the stakes were much lower, of course…a couple of steamship tickets and some cash…but the intent was the same.
To make money.
And the second Mrs. Crockett appeared to be quite good at it, from what he overheard of her dealings with her two most recent customers.
“Don’t be tellin’ me my business, now.” She placed a brass weight on the tendering scales, as he’d shown her that first day, then fisted her hands on her hips. “There. That’s the price. Take it or leave it.”
The miners grumbled but completed the transaction. Goods and gold were exchanged. Kate swept the precious tender into the old leather pouch Dennington had used to safeguard his money, and stuffed it into her skirt pocket the instant the miners left.
Will slipped past the open window and chucked his rawhide gloves on the back porch before stepping into the living quarters flanking the store. Kate had been busy in the short time he’d been gone. The cabin was spotless. So tidy he hardly recognized it.
“There’s a shelf in there needs fixing,” she called out when she heard the scrape of his boots across the split timber floorboards. “By the stove.”
It had been like that all morning. She’d roused him in the gray dawn, rattling off a list of chores that would take six men a week to complete.
“I’ll get to it,” he said. “When I’m ready.”
His reply was met with icy silence on the other side of the wall separating the cabin’s living quarters from the storefront. Though he couldn’t see her from where he stood, he felt her blue eyes burning into him.
The tiny brass bell he’d hung over the storefront’s door tinkled to life. One of the first things he’d done that morning was repair the busted front door latch. He’d be paying a visit to the Packett boys later today on that account.
Mei Li blew across the threshold with an armload of stuff, eyeing the newly installed bell. “Okay, Miss Kate. I ready to start.” Will recognized Cheng’s old abacus sticking out from under her arm.
“Good,” Kate said. “It won’t take long if we work together.”
In the day and half he’d been gone, these two had grown thick as thieves. What exactly were they up to? Will sidled up to the doorway and peered into the store.
Mei Li set the abacus on the counter and surveyed the hodgepodge of items left over from their last shipment. None of it was good for much, in Will’s estimation.
Kate ran a hand over the carved ivory balls of the Chinese counting device, then handed Mei Li a paper Will recognized—the inventory list Dan the wagon driver had delivered along with the shipment.
Mei Li thrust the paper back at her. “You read list. I count.”
“But—”
“Faster this way.”
Under the counter Mei Li found the inventory ledger she’d created for Liam Dennington months ago. Will recalled that the Irishman had rarely used it. Dennington hadn’t been one to keep track of his stock, or his profits.
“You read,” Mei Li said. “I count. Then you write—here.” She nodded at the ledger.
While Mei Li sorted goods, Kate studied the list and the ledger, her expression as grave as Will had ever seen it. He wondered what she was thinking. Their situation wasn’t all that bad. Dan would be back in a week with new stock.
“Okay, I ready.”
Will watched as Kate ran a hand over Dan’s chicken-scratch writing. Her gaze fixed on the list, but it was as if she were feeling the words on the paper rather than reading them. Mei Li looked at her expectantly.
Then it dawned on him.
Kate Dennington couldn’t read.
A split second later she saw him, lurking there in the doorway. She slapped the list onto the counter. “What the devil are you doing there?”
“Watching.” He stepped into the store.
“Watching? Watching what?”
“You.”
She made a derisive little sound and turned her back on him. “Don’t you have chores?”
“They can wait.”
Mei Li shot him a quick glance, then slipped toward the front door. “I come back later. Husband and wife talk now.”
“She’s not my—” the brass bell signaled Mei Li’s swift departure “—wife.”
Kate flashed angry eyes at him, grabbed the list and the ledger off the counter and yanked open a drawer.
In three strides Will was behind her, his hand clamped over her wrist. “Not so fast.”
“Let me go!”
“Let’s see that list.”
She jerked free of his grasp and slammed the list and the ledger onto the counter. “I’ve work to do. I’ll just—”
“Read it to me.” He gripped the edge of the counter, hemming her in as she tried to slip past him. “Read it.”
“No.”
Anger, and something else, flashed in her eyes. In the privileged world he’d been raised in everyone could read and write. But things were different here on the frontier. She was different, too. Perhaps he’d misjudged her.
“Mei Li could help you with that, you know. I could even help you, if you wanted.”
“With what?”
He nodded at the list on the counter. “Reading.”
Surprise registered in her eyes, then vanished just as quickly. “I don’t need your help.”
He knew she’d say that. In fact, he would have been disappointed had she not. “Suit yourself. It doesn’t matter to me if you can’t read.”
“I never said I couldn’t read.” She tried to move past him again, and again he blocked her escape. “It’s just that…” Her face flushed crimson. “It’s none of your business.”
She was right, it wasn’t. “Fair enough.” He was sorry he’d embarrassed her. That’s not what he’d meant to do. Besides, what did he care if she could read or not? “But why the inventory?”
“It’s necessary.”
“For what? What does it matter? The goods come in. We sell them. Period.”
He pressed closer, and she looked away, refusing to acknowledge his invasion of her personal space. He told himself his proximity to her didn’t affect him, either, but it did.
All at once he was aware of a hundred tiny things about her. The shimmering wisps of auburn hair grazing her neck, her freckled cheeks flushing under his scrutiny. He leaned closer still, dangerously drawn to her lips, which were pursed in that prim, defiant manner he was beginning to admire.
“To keep track of the profits, of course.” At last she met his gaze, her blue eyes ice. The hint of vulnerability he’d perceived a second earlier had vanished.
“The profits,” she repeated, as if he hadn’t heard her the first time. Her expression hardened before his eyes. “Yours and mine.”
“Yours and mine?”
“Exactly.” She pushed past him, and this time he didn’t stop her. “We shall count every item sold, and at the end of each day, we’ll divide the profits between us in equal shares.”
It was always about the money, wasn’t it? First his father, then Sherrilyn. Now her. “What, do you think I’d cheat you?”
“You might.”
The brass bell over the door tinkled to life again, and he bit back the comment he was ready to let fly.
Kate’s eyes widened. “Mr….Landerfelt.”
Will spun toward the door, a hand on his empty holster. “What do you want?”
Landerfelt stood in the doorway, smirking. “I’m here to offer Mrs. Crockett, here, a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Kate started toward him. Will grabbed her arm, and she shot him a nasty look.
“She wants to go home. I’m prepared to send her.”
“What do you mean?” Will said.
“I’ll buy her passage. Half now, half later.”
“You will?” Kate jerked out of his grasp.
“Whoa!” Will grabbed her again, and this time he wasn’t letting go. “In return for what?” As if he had to ask.
Landerfelt grinned. “For the store, of course.”
“Done!” Kate could hardly believe it.
“Good.” Landerfelt turned to leave. “I’ll just have my boys—”
“No deal, Landerfelt.”
Will’s grip on her tightened, and she twisted around to stare at him, incredulous. “What do you mean, no deal?”
His black eyes bored into Landerfelt’s back, as the merchant turned to face him. “Just what I said.”
“You can’t mean that.” Kate tried to wrest her arm from Will’s grasp, but his fingers only tightened around her flesh. “You’re hurting me. Let go!”
“I do mean it.” His gaze was riveted to Landerfelt’s, his expression stone.
“But—”
“The store’s mine, and everything in it. The land, too.”
“No. You don’t mean that.” She shook her head, not wanting to believe he’d do this to her. “It’s mine. It was my father’s. I only married you to—”
“For the money.” He shot her a bitter look and let her go. “Don’t remind me.”
Didn’t he understand her predicament? Why was he being so unreasonable? He’d made enough off their last shipment to have made their short-lived arrangement worth his while. Why would he prevent her, now, from securing the funds she so badly needed?
“Come on, Crockett. You don’t give a hoot about this place—or her.”
Landerfelt was right about that. Last night she’d thought differently, but now she could see Will Crockett was only in it for the coin. Looking at him now, she wondered how she could have ever thought him chivalrous.
“You want to see the little lady dealt with fairly. I can understand that.” Landerfelt stepped toward him, but Will raised a cautionary hand and the merchant froze in place. “All right, then. I’m a fair man.”
“Right.” Will snorted. “And my father’s a saint.”
What was he talking about? And what on earth was he thinking? It was clear to her, now, that Crockett meant to cheat her, somehow, out of what was rightfully hers. He’d never intended to keep to their bargain.
She must think of a way out of this, and fast. “It’s a grand offer, Will.” She forced herself to smile at him. “In fact, I’d be willing to split—”
“I told you. The land and the store are mine, and I’m not inclined to sell them. Not just yet.” He wasn’t even looking at her. His gaze was locked on Landerfelt’s. “And sure as hell not to him.”
Crockett had lied to her—about everything.
An ill feeling welled inside her. She was in this alone, now, and it was up to her to get herself out again.
As the two men stood there, glaring at each other, Kate had a fearful premonition she’d never see Ireland again.
Kate didn’t speak to him for three days, and that suited Will fine.
They’d worked together in silence, side by side, with occasional help from Matt and Mei Li, making minor repairs to the cabin and readying the store for the next shipment.
The inventory was done, the ledger updated, and what additional profits they’d made divided. His and hers. Exactly as Kate had demanded. It was all about the money, and as soon as they’d made enough, he was out of there.
Will spun the loaded cylinder of the Colt he’d just acquired in a street trade with a passing miner, then glanced skyward, squinting against the rain pummeling his face. Sleeping outside, he’d been soaked to the skin for two days now. It was November, and the weather had changed for good.
Along with his plans.
He stuffed the pistol into his belt and sloshed across the muddy street toward the store. They hadn’t made a sale all day, and Dan Dunnett was late. It would be rough going from Sacramento City to Tinderbox in this downpour. He’d give the wagon driver another two days before he set out to find him.
Kate was behind the counter when he blew across the threshold. “Wipe your muddy boots! I’ve just scrubbed the floor.”
Now this was a surprise. “So I take it we’re speaking again.”
She glared at him with those icy eyes of hers.
He thrust a hand inside his pocket and gripped the painted miniature he’d purchased the day they’d married. He’d been wrong about the artist. The portrait didn’t capture the hard-edged contempt that had graced her expression ever since he’d declined Landerfelt’s offer.
He kicked his boots off in the corner and hung his dripping jacket on a peg near the door. His hair was plastered to his face. He wiped it from his brow and considered her position.
She was as stubborn as Dennington’s old mule, for sure. But not wrong to be angry at him, given what little she really knew of Eldridge Landerfelt’s character.
His own bottled-up anger had stopped him from explaining his actions to her that day. But sleeping in a wind-whipped tent in the rain the past three nights had dampened his pride, if not his bitter mood. If they were going to work together for the next few weeks, this standoff had to end. And he’d end it now.
“You’re wrong, you know.”
Grabbing a rag and a tin of linseed oil, she ignored his statement and proceeded to polish the counter.
“About Landerfelt—and me.”
She shot him a quick glance but didn’t respond.
“Sure, he might have paid you half now. Half of what he would have convinced you was the passage—and he would have been lying, by the way.”
Her hand froze on the counter, and she met his gaze.
“Two, three hundred dollars, if you were lucky. He would have packed you off to Frisco, and that’d be the last you’d ever see of him or the rest of what he owed you.”
He watched her mind working, wondering if he was telling her the truth.
“How do you know?”
“I just do. Landerfelt’s a bad egg. You’ll have to trust me on that.”
“Aye, trust you. What a fine idea.” She started polishing again, putting her back into the long strokes.
The rain beat on the tin roof. He glanced out the window at his tent, which had collapsed and now had a small creek running through it, and swore.
“You’ll catch your death.” She nodded at the other room. “Go in by the stove and warm up.”
For a second her eyes warmed to the blue portrayed in the miniature. He caught himself recalling their kiss again. Her soft lips. The smooth skin at the nape of her neck.
“You sure?”
“Go on before I change my mind and toss you out.”
He fought an unconscious smile as he squished across the floor in soaked socks. She was back to treating him like an errant child again. Probably the way she treated her younger brothers. She had four of them, to hear Mei Li tell it. It was better than silent contempt, he supposed.
She followed him into the next room and lit the lamp on the table. It was nearly dark, the sky gone black with storm clouds. Something was about to happen. He could see it her eyes, read it in her puffed-up demeanor. The old Kate was back. He didn’t know whether to be happy about it or not.
“Have you eaten today?”
“No. You?”
“Just some hardtack this morning.” She shrugged. “I can…cook something, if you like.”
“That’d be good.” He eased onto a stool flanking the potbellied stove and warmed his hands. It was the first time she’d offered to cook for him. He’d eaten nothing but wet jerky for days. The store was nearly out of foodstuffs, and she’d kept him so busy with chores he hadn’t had time to hunt. He wondered what she’d been eating the past few days.
A chill gripped him. Damned rain. He inched closer to the stove.
“Here, you’re soaked through.” She tossed him a blanket from off the bed. “Strip off and I’ll draw you a bath.”
“What?”
“A bath. Hot water? Soap?”
“You want me to—”
“Aye.” She opened the door leading to the back porch and, fighting the wind, dragged Dennington’s old copper tub into the cabin. “Besides, you’ll not stay here with me, smelling like you do. You could use a wash.”
His eyes widened of their own accord. “You want me to stay here? With you?” He glanced at the neatly made bed.
Their gazes locked. For the briefest moment he knew she was thinking the same thing he was. Her freckled cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t from the heat of the tiny room.
“Not here, you fool.” She looked away and busied herself searching for the bucket.
“Over there.” He pointed to it under the table flanking the wall.
“You can sleep in the store.” She met his gaze again, and again he was surprised by the change in her. “Well, you can’t sleep out there, now can you?” She nodded toward the forested hillside back behind the cabin.
“Hey, wait a second.” Was that his tent washing away down the ravine?
“You’ll sleep in there—” she nodded at the other room “—and I’ll be in here. With the door closed,” she added.
In her eyes he recognized a hint of the same vulnerability he’d read in them the night he’d surprised her in the dark.
“Just until the rain stops, mind you.” She tossed her cloak around her shoulders and went to draw water from the rising creek out back.
He sniffed at his clothes, wondering if he really did smell bad. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a real bath, with soap and hot water. It sounded damned good. At the least it would warm him up. If she was game, so was he.
The standoff was over.
Will watched as she readied the tub and collected some linen. Two buckets of boiling water later, Kate stood in the doorway leading to the store. “Go ahead.” She nodded at the steaming tub. “I’ll find you some soap.”
Before he could ask her if she was planning on stepping out while he bathed or staying and scrubbing his back, she disappeared into the store.
Fine. It didn’t bother him any. He listened to her rooting around in the near dark of the store as he stripped off his wet clothes and hung them to dry across a chair he’d pulled close to the stove.
“I’ll not wash those filthy rags you call clothes,” she called from the other room. “You’ll have to do that yourself.”
Ücretsiz ön izlemeyi tamamladınız.
