Oklahoma Sweetheart
“I heard,” Connor said dryly. “Everyone in town heard by now, I’m sure.”
The storekeeper leaned closer. “Did you hear she was in the family way?”
Again Connor nodded and agreed. “Yeah, I heard that, too. Seems like the folks hereabouts are real busy passing the word around.”
“I thought you was gonna marry her, back a ways.”
“Did you?” Connor dug in his pocket for cash and slowly counted out the amount of his purchases.
“Still gonna take her to the preacher?”
“Are you always this nosy?” he asked, “or is this a special occasion?” His eyes narrowed as he stepped back to observe the man.
“Didn’t mean no harm,” the storekeeper said quickly. “I was just wonderin’.” He pointed down to the scribbling that represented Connor’s order for the merchandise from the catalog. “I’ll take care of this right away. Should be here in two, three weeks.”
“Let me know. I’m in town every once in a while.”
“Maybe I can just send word to your folks’ place. You’re still livin’ there, ain’t ya?”
Connor’s jaw tightened. “I’ll stop by when I come to town. Don’t be sending any word anywhere. You hear me?”
The man nodded. “Yes sir, I surely do.”
Connor felt the bulk of the deed in his pocket as he left the store, although the sheaf of papers could not have weighed more than a few ounces. He touched the front of his coat, heard the reassuring rustle of the paperwork he’d had made out, and grinned. Loris would be pleased to know that she needn’t move anytime soon, that the place where she’d taken shelter was her own, to do with as she pleased.
He pulled his horse up next to the Benson’s place and dismounted. Within thirty minutes, he owned a cow and a half-grown pup from the litter in Joe’s barn. A nondescript mutt, he looked to be part shepherd, and seemed to be gentle, his tongue reaching out to seek Connor’s warm skin as they traveled together on the horse.
By the time they reached the farm where Loris had taken up residence, a place she owned now, Connor was feeling pleased with himself. A huge bundle hung on either side of his saddle, a dog lay across his lap and a good milk cow followed behind him on a lead rope. He’d had a profitable trip to town.
Loris came out onto the porch, one hand on her back, her hair askew. “What do you have there?” she asked with a grin. “More work for me to do, I’ll bet. What makes you think I can milk a cow?”
“You’re a talented woman, ma’am. Milking shouldn’t be too big a problem for you to solve. And look here at what I brought you.” He dismounted, holding the dog in his arms. Legs dangled helter-skelter, all four of them longer than he’d remembered, and as Loris approached, she was served with a dose of the dog’s affection.
“He’s just happy to see you,” Connor said with a laugh. “Must be he likes ladies.”
“Well, I didn’t need a kiss so early on in our acquaintance,” Loris told him. “I’d just as soon he not be so friendly.”
“You’ll be glad he’s here at night, I suspect. And I don’t know just how friendly he’d be should some stranger ride up or give you grief.”
“He’s really mine?” Her hand lifted to pet the tawny head, and the dog wiggled in ecstasy as Connor put him on the ground and gave him the freedom to roll on his back before his new mistress. She knelt beside him, buried her fingers in the hair on his throat, petted his long legs as if she were measuring their length, and then looked up at Connor.
“Can I call him Rusty?”
Connor looked perplexed. “Where’d you get such a name for a dog?”
“I had a pup once, and my father’s horse stepped on him in the barn. Killed him, of course. His name was Rusty, and I always thought—”
“Of course you can. Call this little fella anything you want to. He’s your dog, and I have a suspicion that no matter what you name him, he’ll come a’runnin’ when you yell out his name.”
“You think he likes me?” Her words sounded hopeful, childlike almost, but Connor squatted beside her and ran his hand over Rusty’s head.
“I’d say it was a sure thing, sweetheart. He seems quite taken with you. He’s a male, isn’t he?” His look begged a smile from her and she did not deny him his reward for bringing her the pet.
“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me,” she said quietly. “He can sleep in the house and look after me.”
“I thought that was my job.” Connor spoke the words bluntly, expectantly, and waited for her to reply.
“You can share the duties of watchdog, if you like, Connor. I just meant, when I was alone here, he’d be good protection. When you’re here, I don’t need anyone else to keep an eye on things.” She eyed the bundles he’d tied on his horse. “What else did you bring home?”
Connor wondered if she realized how easily that word had slipped out. Home. It sounded just fine to him, and he hoped she’d come to feel that this place was truly hers, that it was her home. Now, he undid the straps that held his purchases in place and carried the two wrapped packages to the house.
“Come take a look. I got some warm bedding and a couple of things for you to wear. I wanted you to be warm enough when you go out to milk the cow.” His smile lent humor, and he hoped she would not balk at his buying clothing for her.
It seemed she would not do anything to fault his gifts, the shawl, the house shoes, new flannel shirts to be worn over her dresses or with the trousers he’d bought, guessing at the size, aware that they must accommodate a growing figure.
“I got you a belt to hold these up for a while,” he told her. “A little later on, they’ll stay up by themselves, when you’ve gotten a little rounder.”
“Fatter, you mean.” She produced a pout, and he was hard pressed not to bend over and kiss it from her mouth. Leaving Loris alone, not spending his affections on her, was going to be a tough row to hoe, he decided. His first impulse was to haul her up the stairs into the biggest bed on the second floor. But she wasn’t ready for that sort of thing, yet. In fact, she might never be. Maybe her heart was still set on James. He didn’t know.
“Connor?” She spoke his name softly.
His look was distracted. What had she asked him? And then he recalled her words. Fatter, you mean. The thought was so ludicrous, he could not help but smile. “I’ll never call you fat. Not even plump, Loris. You’ll always look good to me. You’re pregnant, and that’s a whole different thing.”
As if he had pleased her enormously, she smiled brilliantly, an expression that brought to mind the girl he’d fallen in love with so long ago. “Tell me that again in five months or so.” She grinned at him and reached up to kiss his cheek. “You’re a good man, Connor Webster. Too good for me, but if you want to hang around, I’ll let you.”
He’d already decided to hang around, had already made plans to look after her. But her theory, that he was too good for her, was not to be believed. He was too close to laying claim to her to think himself a saint. And yet, he knew that a man could desire a woman without deep emotional ties connecting them. Only time would tell if his attraction to Loris held even a thread of what it would take to keep a marriage together.
Chapter Four
“I don’t want you living with that girl.” His mother’s jaw was set, but her eyes held a concern Connor could not deny. “She’s trouble, son, and I won’t have her dividing my boys anymore than she has already.”
“That girl has a name, Ma. It’s Loris. And she’s going to be the mother of your grandchild. You might at least try for peace between you.” He walked to the back door, tempted to walk out of his family home and never return, but his love for the man and woman who’d raised him brought him to a halt before he stepped onto the porch.
“The trouble between James and me goes a lot deeper than competition over a woman, Mother. He walked out on his responsibility. And if he won’t accept that he has an obligation to Loris and her child, then I suppose I’ll have to do something to hold the family’s name out of the mud.”
“Loris is the one who’s dragged her own name in the mud,” Connor’s mother replied in a caustic tone. “She’s got you fooled, son, and I’m not happy about you moving over there and doing for her. She’d better learn to take care of herself right quick. It looks to me like she’s got a lot of years ahead of her, chock-full of regret and—”
“That’s enough. I won’t have you talking about her that way. I don’t want to have hard feelings with you, but I have to do what’s right, and to my way of thinking, taking care of Loris is the right thing to do.”
“Well, don’t let her lead you astray. I know her type. She’ll take advantage if she can.” Her mouth drew down and Connor’s mother looked as though she had aged ten years in the past week. Her hair seemed more gray than brown, and her eyes had lost their sparkle. Having James leave had been hard on her. And now her other son was all packed up and ready to move to a farm on the other side of town.
Connor’s father had given him an ultimatum, announcing that either he stay away from Loris or else not bother coming back home. Connor had accepted the words with a nod, and now he watched as his father stood in the barn door, waiting for his son to make up his mind.
There was no choice to be made. He’d settled that last night when he slept by Loris’s side, curled around her back. He’d made the decision even before that, during those minutes when he’d held her close and felt the desire for her rise within him. Even with all that had happened, he still cared about her. He was too honest to deny it, and too attached to Loris to walk away.
His horse waited patiently, and Connor tossed his saddlebags over the gelding’s hindquarters. His clothing was packed tightly in one, his personal belongings in the other. His extra pair of boots took up a lot of space, but they were too good to leave behind. Anything else he needed could be bought from the general store.
“I’ll be back to get my horses,” he told his father, riding the gelding to where the man stood. “Probably tomorrow.”
“You know which ones belong to you.” The words sounded harsh, but Connor knew that the man who spoke them was deeply hurt by his son leaving, and he could not blame him for his attitude. Maybe someday things would be set to rights.
And maybe not.
“If Hank Carpenter from Turley County comes by to see me, you can tell him I’m at the old Stewart place, the other side of town, next to Benson’s.”
“He wantin’ one of your horses?”
“Either that or he wants me to train one he has already.”
“I’ll let him know.”
“Thanks, Pa.” Above all else, his father was an honest man, and if he said he’d send Connor’s new customer to him, he was to be believed. Raising and training horses was Connor’s first choice. But farming ran a close second. Fortunately, they could be combined, so long as he had a barn and some land to plant. Even though it wasn’t going to be the place where he was born and raised that would receive the benefit of his skills and hard work.
Loris met him at the back door, noted the grim set of his jaw, and merely pointed toward the hallway where the stairs climbed to the second floor. He walked past her, carrying his belongings. She watched him go, thinking how much alike they were in this situation. That her clothing consisted of what Connor had bought her, that she’d come almost empty-handed to this place. And now, he’d left home and family and all else that he called his own to stay with her.
“The second door on the right.” She called to him as he reached the hallway.
He turned to look down at her with dark eyes that seemed to see within her, measuring her body and reading her thoughts. “Is it your room? You know I’m planning on staying here a long time, Loris. I’m going to take care of you, and that arrangement starts right now.” His gaze was straightforward, giving her notice of his plans.
She drew in a deep breath, and then shook her head. “No, that’s not my bedroom.”
His eyes narrowed and she thought his knuckles grew white on the bags he held. But his voice was flat and without anger when he spoke again. “Which one is yours?”
“Right across the hall.” She held her breath as he met her gaze for a long minute, and then growled words that did not surprise her.
“Then that’s my room, too.” Turning, he walked through the doorway of the bedroom she’d claimed for herself, and she heard the distinct sound of dresser drawers opening, of his bags hitting the floor, and then the noise of his boots as he walked across the uncarpeted floor.
She was a long way from being upset with him. She’d given him the choice, allowed him the chance to have a room and bed of his own, and he’d turned her down. It was what she’d expected, and though she felt a twinge of unease, her heart sang with the knowledge that he wanted to be with her. Wanted to sleep in her bed…and most of all, he planned on taking his place in this home.
I’m going to take care of you, and that arrangement starts right now.
He’d certainly made that plain enough.
Her lips curved in a secret sort of smile as she returned to the kitchen. She’d put bacon on top of a pan of beans, adding all the ingredients her mother had used for the one-dish meal at home. Onions, tomatoes, brown sugar and a bit of mustard flavored the beans, and the thick slices of bacon made it even more palatable.
“Smells good in here.” Connor came back to the kitchen, hat and coat in hand, then hung them on pegs by the back door. He took warm water from the reservoir on the side of the stove and began to wash up, dousing his face and then using the soap to scrub his hands and arms, all the way up past his elbows. His shirtsleeves were rolled up neatly, and Loris had a hard time keeping her eyes from him.
He walked up behind her as she stirred a small skillet of fried potatoes. “Is that bacon I smell?”
She thought for a moment he’d leaned close enough to kiss her neck, but instead felt the brush of his hands smoothing back her hair and then holding her shoulders in a firm grip.
“Beans and bacon. Just like my mama used to make at home. She’s a good cook.”
“I’d say by the looks of your dog, he thinks you’re not bad, either.” Rusty had been sitting at her side as she worked in the kitchen, as if he delighted in his responsibility. In return she’d managed to find a few bits and pieces to toss his way, and he peered up at her with a foolish look, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, a soft woof stating his pleasure.
“That dog likes you,” Connor said.
“I hope so. At least he seems to think his main job in life is to stick close by.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted him to do,” Connor told her. “Now, how can I help? Maybe set the table?”
“If you want to. I can do it if you’re tired and want to sit down with a cup of coffee.”
“I’d rather help.” He knew his way around a kitchen, she noticed. His hands held the plates and silverware easily, the cup handles riding on his fingers. “Should I wipe off the oilcloth first?”
In answer, she located the dishcloth and rinsed it in clear water, then squeezed it almost dry. A quick toss across the table delivered it to his hand and he grinned his thanks.
Before long Loris had browned the potatoes nicely, the table was cleaned and set, the chairs moved to their proper places, and Connor was back at her side. “When the beans are done, I’ll take them out of the oven for you,” he offered.
“All right.” She was happy to accede to him, preferring to finish off the odds and ends of the meal. “I’ve already sliced bread and I found a jar of applesauce in the pantry. I suspect we’ll have enough to eat.”
Connor heaped his plate with the hot food she’d provided and worked his way through the meal without comment, only pausing to butter a slice of bread. He leaned back in his chair finally, his plate clean, his hunger apparently appeased.
“Your mother’s cooking must have rubbed off on you, Loris. You made a fine meal. The beans and bacon were good.”
“I noticed that Rusty enjoyed them, too,” she said archly. “He seems to know a soft touch when he sees one.”
“Well, he’s a discerning sort of dog. Knows good food when he gets some handed to him.”
She felt a flush of success at his words. “Mama tried to teach me how to cook and keep house. I’m afraid I wasn’t a very good pupil at some of the tasks she set for me, but I know how to use a scrub board and if there’s a pair of sad irons here, I can iron your clothes.”
“I saw some in the cellar,” he told her. “Though why they were down there is a mystery. Maybe it’s just an extra pair. My mother had two pair, one a bit heavier than the other. She said some things needed more weight.”
“I’ll look in the pantry. There may be a pair there, and it seems like a logical spot to store them. Maybe there’s an ironing board there, too, back in the corner.”
Connor stood, lifting his plate from the table and turning to the sink. Loris followed him quickly, brushing past him to place her own dishes in the sink. And then, as if they had done these small chores together a hundred times before, she handed him a large saucepan.
“If you’ll bring water from the stove, I’ll put these to soak while I clear up in here.”
He did as she asked, then poured coffee from the pot into his cup and settled at the table once more. Straightening the kitchen was a simple thing to accomplish, but he admired her movements as she worked, watched the swing of her skirts as she moved back and forth from table to cupboard, then to the pantry and back again. She paused to find an old metal pan and filled it with water from the pump for Rusty’s benefit.
Her dress moved with a swaying motion and he couldn’t be certain if it were something she’d acquired recently. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed it before, but now it struck him as enticing, her hips moving a bit beneath the full skirt, her feet skimming the surface of the wide floorboards.
“You walk as if you’re dancing,” he mused, and was treated to a quick glance in his direction, as her cheeks grew rosy and her eyes sparkled.
“You’re imagining things,” she said tartly, but her pleasure at his words was visible. Her mouth tightened in an inviting fashion, one he’d noticed before, luring him into her presence. It was a simple thing to stand and approach her as she came from the pantry. Her hands were empty, the bread stored on a shelf, the butter placed into a covered dish for the night.
He gave her little choice, his arms enclosing her lightly, as if he were about to dance with her, and for a moment, he thought he almost heard the music that would accompany them.
Loris looked up at him with a smile that encouraged him in his pursuit of her. Her lips curved and her blue eyes darkened, even as he watched. “You make me feel…safe, as though I’m at home here with you,” she said softly.
“Feeling safe is not what I want you to think about when I hold you this way. I’d like to know that I tempt you a bit.” He grinned down at her uplifted face and planted a damp kiss on her forehead. “Surely you know you’re a temptation to me, Loris.”
“I can’t—”
“I don’t expect you to,” he said, interrupting her as if he knew what her next words would be. “I won’t take your body until we’re married. And in the meantime, I’ll be content with warming you at night and spending my days doing what needs to be done here.”
Wasn’t that a tall tale, he thought. He’d not be content until he had the right to love her as a husband would, even though the thought of James being there first was hard for him to swallow. Knowing that the babe she carried belonged to his brother might present a problem when the time came, but for now, he tried his level best to scourge it from his mind.
“I didn’t know that marriage was a part of this picture.” Loris watched him closely, her eyes widening as if she had made some new discovery. He hadn’t mentioned marriage, only that he would take care of her. Perhaps now was the time to set her straight on a few things.
“Of course it is. Did you think I’d ruin you totally by living with you without being your husband?”
“You told me before that you wouldn’t—”
“Never mind what I told you. Whatever happened in the past doesn’t apply to us now. This is a fresh start for both of us, Loris. And marriage is definitely in my plan.”
He thought she looked stunned and then she proved him right. “I can’t think about that now, Connor. Your family will surely be opposed to such a thing, and I won’t come between you and your folks. I’ll lay odds that they hate me for dragging you into my mess.”
“What they think doesn’t mean nothing to me,” he said doggedly. “What I choose to do is my business, and I choose to marry you. We’ll raise this baby and someday have more. We’ll need a few boys around here to take over the farm one day.”
“What about James?” She hit his sore spot squarely, and he felt his teeth grit in anger.
“James has nothing to do with this any longer. He could have married you and had the joy of raising his own child, but he preferred to stay a bachelor and walk away. He’s not going to be welcome here. Ever.”
“Will your parents ever come to accept us together?” She was close to tears. He could sense that much more of this would set loose the waterworks. He preferred to see Loris happy, or at least contented.
“They’ll have to, if they want to see their grandchildren.” Including the one she carried now, he thought, one that would bear the family name, but would be labeled as James’s child.
“Do you think my folks know where I am?” she asked quietly.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. When I paid the back taxes on this place, I didn’t try to hide my plans. I’ll bet they’ve heard already where you are, and that I’m here with you.”
“They always liked you, Connor. I think that’s mostly why they were so angry with me. They thought I’d done irreparable harm to you, and I deserved everything that came my way because of it.”
“I’ll decide what’s best for you now,” he said.
“And what’s best for all three of us.”
“I heard at the barbershop today that our daughter is living with the Webster boy.”
Alger’s lips compressed in anger as he told Minnie his news. “She’s done nothing but disgrace us in this town, and I won’t have it.”
Minnie looked at him sadly. “We shouldn’t have put her out the front door. It would have been better if we’d kept her here or sent her to your sister Edna in Dallas. As it is, she’s bound to have to accept help from any direction it’s offered. And if that means the Webster boy is accepting his responsibility, so much the better.”
“She’s with Connor. James hit the trail, according to what the men at the barbershop had to say. Connor paid the back taxes on the old Stewart farm for her, so she’d have a place to live, and now he’s moved in with her.”
“Maybe he’ll marry her and give the baby a name.” Minnie sounded hopeful, but Alger’s scornful look seemed bound to deny her that bit of light at the end of Loris’s long tunnel of darkness.
“It’s not his. Why should he take on the responsibility?” He hung his coat and hat on the hall tree and voiced his main concern. “I hope we’re not having meat loaf for supper. I ate it at the hotel today for my dinner.”
“No. I put a piece of pork in the oven and made creamed potatoes.” If Minnie sounded sour and unhappy, it wasn’t because of her menu, but the attitude of her husband, who cared more about the state of his stomach than the welfare of his only daughter.
“It’s bedtime, don’t you think?” Connor stood in the wide doorway, looking in at Loris as she sat in the parlor. The sofa was well-used, but sturdy, as were the other remnants of furniture left behind by the owners. A book on her lap had remained open to the same page for more than ten minutes, and she seemed faraway. As if her thoughts were focused on the uncertain future she faced.