“I hope you appreciate the scandal I created at the mercantile. Folks in town now believe I’m a tippling spinster.”
Again that grin sent her heart into unnerving palpitations. “Why didn’t you just explain that you had a new gentleman friend who enjoys his liquor?”
“They wouldn’t have believed me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve never had a gentleman friend,” she confessed. Immediately she regretted it. Why should she tell this man anything at all about her personal history?
“I can’t believe that.”
Discussing her nonexistent love life with a desperado wasn’t something she wanted to do, and gazing into his coal-dark eyes made her so tongue-tied she doubted she could carry the conversation much further anyway. She looked down at her hands. “We have some visitors.”
“I noticed.” He nodded toward the bottle and glass on the table beside her. “Feel free to pour a glass for me at any time, by the way.”
She opened the bottle and poured the whiskey into a large glass. “It’s my sister, Rose Ellen.”
A frown creased Johann’s brow, and for a moment it almost seemed as if he had a prior acquaintance with her sister. “Is that what all that caterwauling downstairs is about?”
“You heard all the way up here?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that woman’s voice could be heard all the way up to Montana.”
Emma took a generous slug of the whiskey herself. “Ididn’t expect her, or of course I would have told you. And by the way, I explained to her that you were a boarder.”
His dark brows arched with interest. “A lie, Emma?”
She shifted uncomfortably on the stiff spindly chair. “I didn’t feel like explaining your mysterious appearance on my doorstep. You see, Rose Ellen is the suspicious type. Rose Ellen might think you aren’t who you say you are.”
For a moment their gazes met and held; then Emma finished off the glass. She set the empty down on the table and leaned back, feeling somewhat more relaxed. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t contradict my story. I’ve also explained to my sister that you are an invalid, which you are. You shouldn’t be getting out of bed.”
“Lorna tattled?”
She nodded, noting that he didn’t look the least bit remorseful for having flown his coop. “She said you looked as if you were searching for something.”
His eyes sparked with curiosity. “Do you think I’m a thief?”
She didn’t know what to say. Reason told her that he absolutely was a thief—he’d murdered someone during a bank robbery, the posters had said. And yet he didn’t seem like a murderer, or a bank robber, or even so much as a lowly pickpocket. “What were you doing downstairs?”
He shrugged. “I’m not used to being penned up like this.”
A jail cell would be much worse , she thought.
Maybe it was good that there were more people in the house. He would be more likely to keep to himself if he feared who might be standing just outside his door. “You’re not to leave this room again until I tell you you’re well enough.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“My sister used to be the sheriff’s sweetheart, you know,” she added for good measure.
He let out a rough chuckle. “I never met a lawman yet who had good taste in women.”
She regarded him closely and felt a grin tug at her lips. Whiskey was potent stuff, and it was going straight to her head. It made her want to finish that conversation she’d been afraid to finish just minutes before. “Why don’t you believe I’ve never had a gentleman friend?”
He didn’t hurry his answer, which pleased her. He didn’t strike her as a silver-tongued slicker who would say anything just to get what he wanted. “Maybe because I’ve been around you enough to know that you’ve got qualities any man in his right mind would look for in a woman. If you haven’t had gentlemen come calling on you before now, my only answer is that the men around here must all be
Again that grin sent her heart into unnerving palpitations. “Why didn’t you just explain that you had a new gentleman friend who enjoys his liquor?”
“They wouldn’t have believed me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve never had a gentleman friend,” she confessed. Immediately she regretted it. Why should she tell this man anything at all about her personal history?
“I can’t believe that.”
Discussing her nonexistent love life with a desperado wasn’t something she wanted to do, and gazing into his coal-dark eyes made her so tongue-tied she doubted she could carry the conversation much further anyway. She looked down at her hands. “We have some visitors.”
“I noticed.” He nodded toward the bottle and glass on the table beside her. “Feel free to pour a glass for me at any time, by the way.”
She opened the bottle and poured the whiskey into a large glass. “It’s my sister, Rose Ellen.”
A frown creased Johann’s brow, and for a moment it almost seemed as if he had a prior acquaintance with her sister. “Is that what all that caterwauling downstairs is about?”
“You heard all the way up here?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that woman’s voice could be heard all the way up to Montana.”
Emma took a generous slug of the whiskey herself. “Ididn’t expect her, or of course I would have told you. And by the way, I explained to her that you were a boarder.”
His dark brows arched with interest. “A lie, Emma?”
She shifted uncomfortably on the stiff spindly chair. “I didn’t feel like explaining your mysterious appearance on my doorstep. You see, Rose Ellen is the suspicious type. Rose Ellen might think you aren’t who you say you are.”
For a moment their gazes met and held; then Emma finished off the glass. She set the empty down on the table and leaned back, feeling somewhat more relaxed. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t contradict my story. I’ve also explained to my sister that you are an invalid, which you are. You shouldn’t be getting out of bed.”
“Lorna tattled?”
She nodded, noting that he didn’t look the least bit remorseful for having flown his coop. “She said you looked as if you were searching for something.”
His eyes sparked with curiosity. “Do you think I’m a thief?”
She didn’t know what to say. Reason told her that he absolutely was a thief—he’d murdered someone during a bank robbery, the posters had said. And yet he didn’t seem like a murderer, or a bank robber, or even so much as a lowly pickpocket. “What were you doing downstairs?”
He shrugged. “I’m not used to being penned up like this.”
A jail cell would be much worse , she thought.
Maybe it was good that there were more people in the house. He would be more likely to keep to himself if he feared who might be standing just outside his door. “You’re not to leave this room again until I tell you you’re well enough.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“My sister used to be the sheriff’s sweetheart, you know,” she added for good measure.
He let out a rough chuckle. “I never met a lawman yet who had good taste in women.”
She regarded him closely and felt a grin tug at her lips. Whiskey was potent stuff, and it was going straight to her head. It made her want to finish that conversation she’d been afraid to finish just minutes before. “Why don’t you believe I’ve never had a gentleman friend?”
He didn’t hurry his answer, which pleased her. He didn’t strike her as a silver-tongued slicker who would say anything just to get what he wanted. “Maybe because I’ve been around you enough to know that you’ve got qualities any man in his right mind would look for in a woman. If you haven’t had gentlemen come calling on you before now, my only answer is that the men around here must all be
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