Carolyn Davidson - Oklahoma Sweetheart

He walked up behind her as she stirred a small skillet of fried potatoes. “Is that bacon I smell?”

She thought for a moment he’d leaned close enough to kiss her neck, but instead felt the brush of his hands smoothing back her hair and then holding her shoulders in a firm grip.

“Beans and bacon. Just like my mama used to make at home. She’s a good cook.”

“I’d say by the looks of your dog, he thinks you’re not bad, either.” Rusty had been sitting at her side as she worked in the kitchen, as if he delighted in his responsibility. In return she’d managed to find a few bits and pieces to toss his way, and he peered up at her with a foolish look, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, a soft woof stating his pleasure.

“That dog likes you,” Connor said.

“I hope so. At least he seems to think his main job in life is to stick close by.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted him to do,” Connor told her. “Now, how can I help? Maybe set the table?”

“If you want to. I can do it if you’re tired and want to sit down with a cup of coffee.”

“I’d rather help.” He knew his way around a kitchen, she noticed. His hands held the plates and silverware easily, the cup handles riding on his fingers. “Should I wipe off the oilcloth first?”

In answer, she located the dishcloth and rinsed it in clear water, then squeezed it almost dry. A quick toss across the table delivered it to his hand and he grinned his thanks.

Before long Loris had browned the potatoes nicely, the table was cleaned and set, the chairs moved to their proper places, and Connor was back at her side. “When the beans are done, I’ll take them out of the oven for you,” he offered.

“All right.” She was happy to accede to him, preferring to finish off the odds and ends of the meal. “I’ve already sliced bread and I found a jar of applesauce in the pantry. I suspect we’ll have enough to eat.”

Connor heaped his plate with the hot food she’d provided and worked his way through the meal without comment, only pausing to butter a slice of bread. He leaned back in his chair finally, his plate clean, his hunger apparently appeased.

“Your mother’s cooking must have rubbed off on you, Loris. You made a fine meal. The beans and bacon were good.”

“I noticed that Rusty enjoyed them, too,” she said archly. “He seems to know a soft touch when he sees one.”

“Well, he’s a discerning sort of dog. Knows good food when he gets some handed to him.”

She felt a flush of success at his words. “Mama tried to teach me how to cook and keep house. I’m afraid I wasn’t a very good pupil at some of the tasks she set for me, but I know how to use a scrub board and if there’s a pair of sad irons here, I can iron your clothes.”

“I saw some in the cellar,” he told her. “Though why they were down there is a mystery. Maybe it’s just an extra pair. My mother had two pair, one a bit heavier than the other. She said some things needed more weight.”

“I’ll look in the pantry. There may be a pair there, and it seems like a logical spot to store them. Maybe there’s an ironing board there, too, back in the corner.”

Connor stood, lifting his plate from the table and turning to the sink. Loris followed him quickly, brushing past him to place her own dishes in the sink. And then, as if they had done these small chores together a hundred times before, she handed him a large saucepan.

“If you’ll bring water from the stove, I’ll put these to soak while I clear up in here.”

He did as she asked, then poured coffee from the pot into his cup and settled at the table once more. Straightening the kitchen was a simple thing to accomplish, but he admired her movements as she worked, watched the swing of her skirts as she moved back and forth from table to cupboard, then to the pantry and back again. She paused to find an old metal pan and filled it with water from the pump for Rusty’s benefit.

Her dress moved with a swaying motion and he couldn’t be certain if it were something she’d acquired recently. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed it before, but now it struck him as enticing, her hips moving a bit beneath the full skirt, her feet skimming the surface of the wide floorboards.

“You walk as if you’re dancing,” he mused, and was treated to a quick glance in his direction, as her cheeks grew rosy and her eyes sparkled.

“You’re imagining things,” she said tartly, but her pleasure at his words was visible. Her mouth tightened in an inviting fashion, one he’d noticed before, luring him into her presence. It was a simple thing to stand and approach her as she came from the pantry. Her hands were empty, the bread stored on a shelf, the butter placed into a covered dish for the night.

He gave her little choice, his arms enclosing her lightly, as if he were about to dance with her, and for a moment, he thought he almost heard the music that would accompany them.

Loris looked up at him with a smile that encouraged him in his pursuit of her. Her lips curved and her blue eyes darkened, even as he watched. “You make me feel…safe, as though I’m at home here with you,” she said softly.

“Feeling safe is not what I want you to think about when I hold you this way. I’d like to know that I tempt you a bit.” He grinned down at her uplifted face and planted a damp kiss on her forehead. “Surely you know you’re a temptation to me, Loris.”

“I can’t—”

“I don’t expect you to,” he said, interrupting her as if he knew what her next words would be. “I won’t take your body until we’re married. And in the meantime, I’ll be content with warming you at night and spending my days doing what needs to be done here.”

Wasn’t that a tall tale, he thought. He’d not be content until he had the right to love her as a husband would, even though the thought of James being there first was hard for him to swallow. Knowing that the babe she carried belonged to his brother might present a problem when the time came, but for now, he tried his level best to scourge it from his mind.

“I didn’t know that marriage was a part of this picture.” Loris watched him closely, her eyes widening as if she had made some new discovery. He hadn’t mentioned marriage, only that he would take care of her. Perhaps now was the time to set her straight on a few things.

“Of course it is. Did you think I’d ruin you totally by living with you without being your husband?”

“You told me before that you wouldn’t—”

“Never mind what I told you. Whatever happened in the past doesn’t apply to us now. This is a fresh start for both of us, Loris. And marriage is definitely in my plan.”

He thought she looked stunned and then she proved him right. “I can’t think about that now, Connor. Your family will surely be opposed to such a thing, and I won’t come between you and your folks. I’ll lay odds that they hate me for dragging you into my mess.”

“What they think doesn’t mean nothing to me,” he said doggedly. “What I choose to do is my business, and I choose to marry you. We’ll raise this baby and someday have more. We’ll need a few boys around here to take over the farm one day.”

“What about James?” She hit his sore spot squarely, and he felt his teeth grit in anger.

“James has nothing to do with this any longer. He could have married you and had the joy of raising his own child, but he preferred to stay a bachelor and walk away. He’s not going to be welcome here. Ever.”

“Will your parents ever come to accept us together?” She was close to tears. He could sense that much more of this would set loose the waterworks. He preferred to see Loris happy, or at least contented.