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“You won’t look very proper at the Christmas ball.” She pointed out to him, which he only shrugged. Not easily dissuaded, she turned to Anna. “Have you ever shaved a man before?”
Anna’s eyes grew round, however, it was Wade that barked his protest. “Now wait just one second. This is my face and if I don’t wish to shave this grizzly beard, than it stays.”
“For heaven’s sakes, Wade.” Kathleen sounded annoyed. “It’s only hair. It will grow back. Anna, would you kindly do the honors?”
His sister turned and walked away with her crate of supplies before Anna could object. She had only ever shaved her father once, when he had injured his arm in a hunting accident. Her mother, who was in the last trimester of her pregnancy was bedridden and unable to help. Anna frowned, and felt a sickening ache in the pit of her stomach. Up until then, she had been able to remember her family fondly. Somehow, that memory brought an overwhelming sense of sadness.
“Hell, I’d forgotten how bossy she can be,” he mumbled, then turned to look down at Anna. He noticed she appeared ashen.
“No need to look so ill,” he commented, then threw over his shoulder as he left, “If you bleed me, I’ll dock it from your pay.”
It was way past the dinner hour and she learned that Kathleen had prepared supper for Prescott and her clan. Slipping past the kitchen, she went into her room and slid the card beneath her mattress, then went out the back door to the ice box to fetch a loaf of bread and some cold roast beef. She was in the process of placing his meal on a plate to take out to the dining room, when he entered the kitchen and put the kettle on for coffee. Anna hesitated, then went to move toward the exit to take his dinner out to the dining room.
“I’ll eat in here.”
Surprised, but nodding vaguely, she put the plate on the kitchen table, then turned away having to hold off eating her own meal until he was finished. She headed for the cook’s room.
“Get your supper and join me.” He staggered her by saying, then proceeded to pull two mugs out of a cupboard. “You’re probably as hungry as I am.”
She nodded, realizing she hadn’t eaten anything since Elizabeth fed her earlier in the day. She couldn’t recall Wade eating at all, but there was probably a good chance he ate at the saloon while she was visiting Prescott’s lady friend. After all, Marion had been expecting him. A sour taste filled her mouth.
“Now, what’s wrong?”
Her chin snapped up, not realizing her emotions were clearly reflected on her face. Either Wade had an uncanny ability to read her feelings or she had a horrible ability at hiding them. She shook her head and busied herself making a second plate of food. Her thoughts were far too easily distracted and she didn’t want to think about what happened up on that second floor in the saloon this afternoon. At the time she had been so preoccupied with fear, she had completely forgotten where he was. Now that they were home and her nerves had finally calmed, she was reminded of such hateful thoughts.
Placing her plate down on the table harder than she meant to, she attempted to make light of it by ignoring it. Wade raised a brow but didn’t comment. Instead, he ate with relish and murmured his delight in the food. It lifted her spirits some knowing he enjoyed her cooking.
“Have you ever shaved anyone before?”
The question caught her unaware and she had to bring her wayward thoughts back around. She offered a single nod as he reached over and filled her mug with coffee.
“Good,” he said. “I could probably do it myself, but I don’t have as steady a hand as Carl. Kathleen wouldn’t be too pleased if I showed up at her fancy party with cuts all over my face.”
She nodded, starting to worry. In actual fact, she had only shaved a man once. Though she left no cuts, she couldn’t guarantee that for Wade.
He finished the last of his food and sat back to relax in his chair. Lifting his mug to his lips, he studied Anna from over its rim.
“You’re going to need a cut soon as well, if you plan on keeping up this charade.”
Her hand automatically lifted to her hair. She actually hadn’t seen a reflection of herself since that day at the barber shop, but she could feel the hair growing over her ears. Instinctively, she tucked a strand behind one ear.
“See.” He gestured to the troublesome lock. “Acts like that are very telling. You’ll have to watch yourself. A boy wouldn’t worry about a little strand of hair in his way.”
She frowned and pushed her food around on her plate, suddenly not very hungry.
“As a matter-of-fact, I often wonder how I myself had missed signs that now appear so obvious.”
Her frown deepened and she worried openly what signals she sent that indicated her sex.
“There,” he said. “That’s another clue.”
This time she looked across the table at him perplexed, and he suddenly broke out into a smile. “Your eyes are very telling, Anna. If you wanted, you couldn’t keep the truth from being revealed. You wear your feelings openly. A man isn’t as emotional. A boy, perhaps, and my own explanation as to your peculiar personality.”
She lowered her lids. She didn’t think peculiar was in any shape or form a compliment.
He got up and put his mug on the counter then came back toward the table. “If you’re just about finished you can follow me.”
Puzzled, she looked up into his face.
