Page 2 of Beyond Montana's Sky
His grin widened, and his stare was frank and approving. His gaze dropped to her hand, as if searching for a ring.
But today, for such a formal visiting occasion, Edith wore gloves. She ignored the thrill his attention sent through her.
He cocked an eyebrow and tipped his head. “You’re sure? I’d love to attend.”
A lady doesn’t roll her eyes.Although she’d never been so tempted. She held up the envelopes. “You don’t even know what these are for.”
“Doesn’t matter. Any place a pretty little lady like you will be is a place I want to be too.”
Edith knew she was attractive, and, ever since she’d pinned up her hair, she’d received plenty of male attention. But never had she been called apretty little lady. For one thing, she wasn’t little, being on the tall side for a woman.Beautiful. Elegant. Poised.All familiar compliments. But neverprettyorlittle.
Still, the charm of the compliment flustered her. Edith wasn’t a woman to fluster easily, and she refused to allow the man to see his effect on her.
He reached to pluck the stack of envelopes from her hand and rifled through them. “Ah! I knew my luck hadn’t run out. Won’t have to miss whatever this event is.” He held up one envelope in front of her eyes. “Hopeyou’renot gettin’ married…?”
Mr. Cai Driscoll and Employees.Edith read her own writing and remembered how, when she’d addressed the envelope, she’d wondered who the man was. Obviously someone with a business or ranch or farm since he employed others.
Edith knew most of the residents of Sweetwater Springs and the environs by name excepting loggers, prairie farmers, and hunters living isolated in the woods. She’d assumed he fit into one of those categories. But this man didn’t seem to be one of those sorts.
“My brother Caleb Livingston’s wedding,” she said stiffly. “To Magdalena Baxter.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
In spite of her desire to remain aloof, Edith couldn’t help giving him a look of inquiry.
He waved the invitation in front of him like a fan. “This isn’t foryourwedding.” He paused a beat. “Unless, of course, you’re already married.”
“I’m awidow,” she said, practically gritting her teeth.
For a moment, sadness flashed in his eyes.
But the cockiness returned so quickly, Edith couldn’t be sure she’d really glimpsed any vulnerability.
He swept her a little bow. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She graciously inclined her head.
He gave her back the invitations and jerked a thumb toward the door. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Edith knew her face must be flushing, for her cheeks heated again. She hated he could see her response. “Absolutely not!”
He leaned to knock on the doorframe as if drawing her attention to the building. “Yet, here you are, lingering on the doorstep of the saloon. A game of cards, perhaps? I’ll bet you play a mean hand of poker.”
“I’ve never played cards in my life.” Nor had she ever spoken so coldly.
But her coldness seemed to have no effect on the rogue, for his grin broadened.
He eyed her up and down. “You can’t be a saloon girl, that’s for sure.”
“Is that supposed to gratify me?”
Throwing back his head, he laughed, the sound rich and warm.
Something tickled inside Edith’s midsection.
“Darlin’, when Igratifyyou, you’ll have no need to ask. You’llknow.”
The good-humored, roguish look in his eyes and his teasing tonealmostmade her overlook the most outrageous flirtation she’d ever received. But a lady—even a widow—shouldn’t acknowledge any kind of intimate innuendo, even if she found her breath hitching and her heart pounding.
