AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"It's not that." He grabbed his mug and traced a circle on the cloth. He could smell the faint fragrance of rose water. Megan used it to rinse her hair. He studied her dress. The green calico complemented her coloring, but it wasn't an extravagance. Despite the warmth of the kitchen, she hadn't unbuttoned even one tiny button on her collar or turned up her cuffs. She wore less petticoats but would never consider not wearing them at all. The only thing out of place was her mussed hair. From the top of her head down to her sensible buttoned shoes, she was respectable.
He'd spoken to the citizens of this town. If they were so uncharitable about a child, imagine what they would do to
Megan if she flouted convention. He'd always mocked her fears of what others might think. For the first time, he began to see the power they wielded in Landing.
"It wouldn't look right," he said.
"What? It wouldn't look right?" She stood up and grabbed the towel, then pulled the biscuits out of the oven. They were perfectly browned. She served the rest of the meal. "Did someone hit you on the head? The Justin Kin-caid / know wouldn't give a... a..."
He raised his eyebrows.
She plopped a full plate down in front of him and placed her hands on her hips. "A darn about how it looked."
"Maybe I'm learning."
"I don't mind," she said, serving herself. "I like Bonnie."
"I know, but I'll keep her."
"It looks less right for you to have her than for me."
"I don't care what they say about me, Megan. I've heard it all before. They can't hurt me."
"They can't hurt me, either."
He picked up his fork and smiled. "You never were much of a liar."
"So tell me what's different from what you remember," she said as she picked up his empty plate. He started to stand up to help her, but she waved him back down. "Sit. You're my guest. I don't get many of them anymore, so I'm having fun." She grinned. "Plus, we ate in the kitchen. That's scandalous enough without you cleaning up the dishes, too. So how has Landing changed?"
"It's bigger," he said, leaning back in his chair. The meal had been excellent. The company better. Megan still had the ability to make him laugh. "There are more people, more businesses. I heard there's going to be a newspaper soon."
Megan sighed as she scraped the plates. "I know. Colleen wants Gene to write a column on morality. His sermons are long enough to sit through, as it is. It would be awful to have to read them, as well. What else?"
"The livery stable. It's new."
She carried over the coffeepot and poured, then sat next to him and rested her elbows on the table. "The old one burned down a while ago."
"There's a new saloon."
Megan raised her eyebrows and blinked several times. "I'm sure I haven't noticed,'' she said, the haughty tone of her voice a close imitation of Colleen's.
He smiled. "The old one is still here, though." His smile faded.
She reached out her hand and covered his. "I'm sorry."
"About what?" She started to pull back. He grabbed her fingers. "I didn't mean that in a bad way. I'm curious what you're sorry about. It wasn't your fault my mother had to work in the saloon."
"I know, but I always felt, oh, not responsible, but guilty, maybe. Everyone was so cruel. I hated that."
He studied her hand. Her slender fingers were pale, the nails neatly trimmed. He turned it over. More smooth skin. "She served drinks," he said, without looking up. "Cleaned the place when it closed. Helped keep inventory. She never went upstairs with a man." He felt Megan stiffen, but he didn't release her hand. He swept his thumb across her palm, back and forth until she relaxed.
"They offered her money," he continued. "I heard them. No matter how little we had, my mother wasn't a whore."
Megan jerked her fingers free and quickly stood up. Her chair went skidding across the wooden floor. "I'm sure she wasn't. Would you like some cobbler? Bonnie and I made it this afternoon. I had to use dried apples, but I soaked them and I'm sure it's delicious." She hurried to the cupboard and pulled out the dessert. "There's fresh cream, too."
He rose from his chair and walked over to her. She blindly reached for a knife and continued to babble on about her cooking. Before she could plunge the blade into the dish, he grabbed her wrist and pulled the knife away from her. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him.
