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Authors: Deborah Smith
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into her lap.
“I don’t want you to take care of me. I want my land and whatever gold you owed my family.”
“I’ll give you anything that makes you happy.” Hiseyes glinted with determination. “Except your land—which I can’t ever give—or enough money for you to traipse off into the world alone.”
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Katherine opened the small Bible she’d brought with her. “ ‘The wicked borroweth and payeth not again: but the righteous sheweth mercy, and giveth.’ ”
He took the Bible from her and thumbed through it. “ ‘Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor.’ ” He hesitated, deciphering the rest of the passage with difficulty. Finally he smiled. “ ‘If two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?’ ”
The slow tightening in her belly did not come entirely from anger. He rested his hand atop hers again and curled his fingers around hers, pressing them snugly into her palm.
Katherine was suddenly aware of him in a disturbing way that reminded her of the time he’d kissed her. She inhaled his scent and was oddly enchanted by the hint of shaving lather and aromatic cigar smoke. Such simple things, but so masculine that they made her feel very feminine by comparison.
His gaze held hers, challenging her to examine his features. His nose was charmingly crooked, his eyebrows thick and slightly arched at the centers, and the mustache a rakish addition that drew attention to the sensuality of his lower lip. His features were almost too strong—the kind that could express emotions with powerful effect.
She sighed and heard a quiver in her breath. What hope would there be for her if she let this man control her both body and soul? A white man. That alone would mean trouble.
“I like it when you look at me that way,” he said, smiling thinly. “Like you either want to eat me up or bite me. I can’t be sure which.”
“Bite you, certainly.”
She faced forward and focused her attention on the arrival of a tall, skinny preacher dressed entirely in black. He was a circuit rider, with mud still clinging to his boots and horsehair on his trousers. Katherine fidgeted, feeling Justis still looking at her, his fingers stroking the soft cup of her palm.
“That passage about ‘two being better than one’?” she whispered. “It refers only to
friends
, not man and woman, and especially not a white man and Cherokee woman.” She took her Bible and her hand back into her own lap.
Justis laughed softly and leaned so close that goose bumps ran up her neck. She was certain he was going to touch his lips to her ear. “That’s what we are, Katie. Friends,” he murmured. “The man and woman part makes it a helluva lot of fun. The white and Injun part is just something we’ll have to deal with.”
The preacher raised his hands for attention. “Welcome, sisters and brothers. Today, seein’ as how I’ve got five couples to marry after the sermon, I’m goin’ to preach about the glory of matrimony.”
“Let’s go,” Justis whispered teasingly. “You got no interest in marryin’, remember? You won’t be owned by anybody but yourself, remember?”
“Let’s stay for your sake. You ought to learn a little something about marriage, don’t you think, before you try to capture a wife from the halls of
haute
society?”
“What kind of society?”
“
Haute
. It’s a French word. It means ‘high.’ High society.”
“You know French?”
She nodded. “And Latin, plus bits and pieces of a few other languages.” She put her finger to her lips. People were frowning at them for talking.
“You know French,” he said softly, more to himself than her. He plucked a blade of grass, stuck it between his teeth, and stared off into space, absorbed in thought.
* * *
A WARM GUST of April air swept over the new graves, carrying the fragrances of pine, oak, dogwood, and honeysuckle toward the valley. The
“I don’t want you to take care of me. I want my land and whatever gold you owed my family.”
“I’ll give you anything that makes you happy.” Hiseyes glinted with determination. “Except your land—which I can’t ever give—or enough money for you to traipse off into the world alone.”
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Katherine opened the small Bible she’d brought with her. “ ‘The wicked borroweth and payeth not again: but the righteous sheweth mercy, and giveth.’ ”
He took the Bible from her and thumbed through it. “ ‘Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor.’ ” He hesitated, deciphering the rest of the passage with difficulty. Finally he smiled. “ ‘If two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?’ ”
The slow tightening in her belly did not come entirely from anger. He rested his hand atop hers again and curled his fingers around hers, pressing them snugly into her palm.
Katherine was suddenly aware of him in a disturbing way that reminded her of the time he’d kissed her. She inhaled his scent and was oddly enchanted by the hint of shaving lather and aromatic cigar smoke. Such simple things, but so masculine that they made her feel very feminine by comparison.
His gaze held hers, challenging her to examine his features. His nose was charmingly crooked, his eyebrows thick and slightly arched at the centers, and the mustache a rakish addition that drew attention to the sensuality of his lower lip. His features were almost too strong—the kind that could express emotions with powerful effect.
She sighed and heard a quiver in her breath. What hope would there be for her if she let this man control her both body and soul? A white man. That alone would mean trouble.
“I like it when you look at me that way,” he said, smiling thinly. “Like you either want to eat me up or bite me. I can’t be sure which.”
“Bite you, certainly.”
She faced forward and focused her attention on the arrival of a tall, skinny preacher dressed entirely in black. He was a circuit rider, with mud still clinging to his boots and horsehair on his trousers. Katherine fidgeted, feeling Justis still looking at her, his fingers stroking the soft cup of her palm.
“That passage about ‘two being better than one’?” she whispered. “It refers only to
friends
, not man and woman, and especially not a white man and Cherokee woman.” She took her Bible and her hand back into her own lap.
Justis laughed softly and leaned so close that goose bumps ran up her neck. She was certain he was going to touch his lips to her ear. “That’s what we are, Katie. Friends,” he murmured. “The man and woman part makes it a helluva lot of fun. The white and Injun part is just something we’ll have to deal with.”
The preacher raised his hands for attention. “Welcome, sisters and brothers. Today, seein’ as how I’ve got five couples to marry after the sermon, I’m goin’ to preach about the glory of matrimony.”
“Let’s go,” Justis whispered teasingly. “You got no interest in marryin’, remember? You won’t be owned by anybody but yourself, remember?”
“Let’s stay for your sake. You ought to learn a little something about marriage, don’t you think, before you try to capture a wife from the halls of
haute
society?”
“What kind of society?”
“
Haute
. It’s a French word. It means ‘high.’ High society.”
“You know French?”
She nodded. “And Latin, plus bits and pieces of a few other languages.” She put her finger to her lips. People were frowning at them for talking.
“You know French,” he said softly, more to himself than her. He plucked a blade of grass, stuck it between his teeth, and stared off into space, absorbed in thought.
* * *
A WARM GUST of April air swept over the new graves, carrying the fragrances of pine, oak, dogwood, and honeysuckle toward the valley. The
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