Braddock held the spider up to her face. “He’s harmless to you, but he does eat scorpions. You shouldn’t be barefoot, by the way. A scorpion’s sting will kill you.” Braddock pointed near her left foot and jumped back. “There’s one.”
Lorelei involuntarily shrieked and hopped sideways. Braddock’s laughter stopped her from screeching a second time. The sound bubbled up from his chest like an ancient well that hadn’t been tapped for centuries.
“Very funny."
He laughed harder and doubled over. He sank to his knees, hardly able to catch his breath.
She watched him with her hands on her hips, fighting her own smile. “It wasn’t that funny, Braddock, sir.”
He started laughing all over again. Finally, with tears seeping into the deep lines around his eyes, his outburst lessened to what sounded suspiciously like giggles.
“I guess that’s the first prank you’ve pulled on anyone in a while.”
He set the spider down and got to his feet. His prolonged amusement might have annoyed Lorelei, since she was the target, except for the fact that his whole face changed when he laughed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten anyone as good as I got you. Except for the time I put a snake in my sister’s bed, but I was whipped for that, so it took some of the fun out of it.”
“I hope that was when you were a child.”
He cocked his head. “Maybe, maybe not—I’d check your bedroll tonight just in case. You might be sharing your bunk with my friend.”
“Does he call you Braddock?”
Before she suspected his intentions, he swept her up into his arms.
“I wasn't kidding about the scorpions. They’re deadly. Don’t walk around barefoot.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck as if being carried by him were as natural as walking. The warmth from his bare skin sank into her as efficiently as the last rays of the setting sun. Stopping herself from leaning into him was useless. Tilting her head to smell his hair was avoided only by sheer will. “What do scorpions look like?”
“They look deadly. They’re a milky white, almost translucent, and they walk backward. You’ll know one when you see it—that is, if you see it before it’s too late.”
“Are you purposely trying to scare me, Braddock?”
“Do you think I could? If I knew you were afraid of bugs I would have told you about tarantulas and scorpions on the first day we met. Would have saved me a lot of trouble if I could have convinced you to go back to Kentucky and leave your brother to me.”
He walked toward the house. She pointed to her shoes near the front porch. “You can set me down here. I’ll put my shoes on.”
He shifted her in his arms and kept walking. “I’ll carry you into the house. Langston’s eyes will probably pop out of his head.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Tricking the deputy marshal.”
He grinned. “Yep.”
She tried not to notice that he carried her over the threshold. It made her fantasy too real, almost painful. No one would really carry her over the threshold of their home, not the way she dreamed, anyway. And she didn’t like to think this was as close as she would ever get. “Aren’t you afraid of anything, Braddock?”
He kicked the door shut on the encroaching purple night. “Just you, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Lorelei filled the second bowl of stew to its glazed rim. Braddock slumped over the table, his head resting on top of his folded arms. A hot day spent mending the corral had left him too exhausted to even eat. For the past two nights he had done little more than gobble down a light supper, then collapse on the floor. Tonight she would make sure he slept in the bed. Where she would sleep churned dangerous ripples in the pit of her stomach.
After he’d carried her inside the night before, he’d done nothing but set her on her feet. She’d leaned against him longer than necessary, giving him ample opportunity to kiss her if he’d had a mind to. He hadn’t. Her disappointment nagged her through a sleepless night and on into the next day. He was a fine man. But he wasn’t hers. Even the fact that he worked like a mule just to please her wouldn’t make it so. The gift of his labor surprised and delighted her, but after so many hard times she knew better than to question good fortune.
She set both crockery bowls on the table. He didn’t move. Without thinking she brushed back his damp hair. He had bathed out by the pump before coming in. After throwing on a shirt and leaving his boots by the door, he’d collapsed into a chair and hadn’t budged since. Maybe he’d fallen asleep. She stroked the length of his dark brown hair. Lighter streaks of burnished red and gold had appeared in the last couple of days.