Page 10 of Redeeming the Outlaw
Esther felt her cheeks flush as Whit gently took her hand in his, his rough, calloused fingers enveloping her delicate ones. She knew she should pull away. It was improper for an unmarried man and woman to have any physical contact, but his touch ignited a warmth which spread through her whole body.
“It’s short for Whitney. My mother named me after mygrandfather. Your hands are like ice, Miss Billings,” he said, his voice soft. “You could use a cup of hot coffee.”
She was relieved when he released her hand, though she immediately missed the contact. Clearing her throat, she straightened her posture. “Whitney is a fine name,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions inside.
“My family has always just called me Whit. Whitney sounds too formal.”
Esther’s heart quickened. She knew she was venturing into dangerous territory, conversing alone with a man like Whit. She found herself drawn to him, captivated by the intensity of his ice-blue eyes.
“I’ll stick to Mr. Moore, thank you.” She busied herself preparing a fresh pot of coffee, aware of his gaze following her every movement. As she waited for the coffee to boil, she looked at him. “I don’t think following my heart is the answer.”
“Why’s that?”
“I need to follow God’s will. He will tell me what He wants me to do.”
Whit sat back down. “He will, but you’ll know in your heart what it is. I at least know that. You seem very capable of knowing your own mind.”
“You know nothing about me, Mr. Moore.”
“Whit. You are going to call me Whit, and I’m going to call you Esther. I know more about you than you I think do. I’ve had my eye on you since you arrived in town.”
Esther felt her back stiffen. “You’ve been watching me?”
He guided her to the bench behind the stove before going to fetch two cups from the pegs on the wall. He poured a cup and handed it to her, his fingers brushing hers.
“Not watching. I’ve noticed you. I’ve enjoyed ourconversations, and I’d like to get to know you better.”
“What you suggest is highly improper, Mr. Moore. I’ve not seen you at Sunday services.”
Whit’s tall frame stood out in the quaint mercantile. As he settled into the seat beside Esther, she caught a whiff of wood smoke, leather, and pine sap. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to imprint the scent into her memory as he leaned closer to whisper in her ear.
“I’m not the kind who is welcome in church, Esther.” His breath was hot against her skin. “Does it bother you?”
“Everyone is welcome in the Lord’s house.” She blew on the coffee before taking a small sip.
“Not everyone.”
She ignored his response for now. “Do you have family in the area?”
He took a sip of his coffee before placing the mug on the bench beside him. “You could say that.”
As she opened her mouth to speak, the door to the mercantile burst open. A group of people entered, their faces flushed from the cold, and immediately gravitated toward the warmth of the potbelly stove.
She watched as they huddled around the glowing potbelly stove, their raucous laughter and lively conversation filling the room, before disappearing to the far side of the store.
“Those are Baxter and the Beale children. The other man is Rex.”
“I met them once at a barn dance.”
“A barn dance, eh?” Whit’s eyes danced with delight. “You don’t seem like the barn dance type.”
“What type is a barn dance type?”
“Not a preacher’s daughter?” He gave a little chuckle. “I’m sorry I missed it. If I were there, I would have taken all your dances.”
“Do you always say what you think?” She watched as he took another sip of coffee.
“Most of the time. Don’t you?”
