The Unexpected Wife(57)
He captured a stray curl and held it between his fingers. “Soft as down.”
Her mouth went dry. “Mr. Barrington, this isn’t wise.”
He didn’t move. “What isn’t?”
Her throat was suddenly as dry as dust. “Touching me. The last time we got too close we made a mistake.”
Still, he didn’t retreat. “When are you going to start calling me Matthias?”
The deep blue of his eyes tugged at her heart. If they weren’t in the center of town, she’d have tumbled into his arms right now. Mentally, she gave herself a shake. “You are not going to seduce me, Mr. Barrington.”
Even white teeth flashed as he grinned. “Care to make a wager on that?”
She lifted her nose a fraction. “It would not be fair to take your money when I know the outcome.”
She took a step back and bumped into the wagon. He advanced a step. Her skirts swirled around his leg.
“No such thing as a sure thing, Abby. I learned that long ago.”
An hour later, as Matthias leaned against a cottonwood tree, he was still pleased with himself. He’d spoken to Mr. Stokes and arranged for the man to travel out to the ranch to inspect his stock. In terms of the ranch, he couldn’t have asked for a better day.
But his eyes right now were only on Abby. He watched Abby by the food table talking to Mrs. Clements and several other women. It was clear she was enjoying herself.
The women were laughing about something and Abby’s clear bright laugh had him smiling. She looked so young when she smiled. Taller than the other women, she had full round breasts and a narrow waist.
He wanted to walk over to her now, take the pie from her hands and carry her to the closest bed. He could picture unbinding her long curls and stripping her neatly pressed calico down over her slender hips. The sunlight would glisten off her white breasts and the pink tips of her nipples.
He’d brought Abby to town so that he could woo her properly, but his courtship skills, which had never been refined to begin with, were rustier than an iron hinge left in the rain too long.
Holden, with a cold bottle of sarsaparilla in his hand, walked up. “Looks like Abby is fitting right in,” he said.
Matthias stood straighter. “She has a gift for drawing people to her.”
“Her cooking is making her famous. A couple of miners nearly got into a scuffle over the last piece of her pumpkin bread.” Holden grinned. “Three have already asked for her hand in marriage.”
Matthias ground his teeth and clenched his fingers. “She’s not that single.”
“Last I heard you two didn’t say any vows.”
Matthias was half tempted to wipe the smirk off the other man’s face. “Yet.”
“You better get on the stick. Single women just don’t stay single long.”
Matthias watched the rancher, Rawlings Collier was his name, walk up to Abby. He looked to be complimenting Abby on her cooking but Matthias knew food wasn’t on the man’s mind. The man was a known drinker and his livestock were poorly managed. “I think I’ll ask her for a dance.”
“’Fraid you’re too late,” Holden said, laughing. “Rawlings is guiding her out to the clearing where the others are dancing.”
What the hell was he thinking bringing Abby to town? Matthias wondered. He watched as Collier danced with Abby. The man held her too damn close. He told himself he could be patient.
Abby’s clear laughter rang out. She was trying to show the rancher a dance step. Collier was trampling all over her toes and Matthias didn’t like the way his hand eased down Abby’s back.
“Holden,” Matthias said. “Is the minister in town today?”
“Sure is.”
“Find him. I’ll have a job for you before the day is out.”
Holden chuckled. “Consider it done.”
Mrs. Clements glided up to Matthias. “Our Abby looks like she’s having a wonderful time. What’s this, her third or fourth dance?”
“Fifth.”
Mrs. Clements bit back a smile. “But who’s counting, right?”
“Exactly.”
“And have you seen the line of men over there waiting to dance with her?” Holden said.
Frowning, Matthias followed the direction of his gaze. “What!”
“Over there by the large cottonwood tree. I hear they are drawing straws so that it’s fair.”
He’d been so intent on watching Abby that he’d not noticed the collection of men by the tree. As Mrs. Clements had said, one held out his fist, which was filled with a handful of sticks. A rancher pulled out a stick and when he saw it was long, cheered. The rancher turned the straw back in and walked to the back of a line now seven men deep.