private—I don’t think I will be your wife. Good day, Mr. Taggert, and Edan.”
“Good day, Houston,” Edan said with a slight smile.
“Women!” she heard Kane say behind her. “I told you a woman’d take a lot of my time.”
He caught up with her at the front door. “Maybe I was a little hasty,” he said. “It’s just that when I’m workin’ I don’t like no interruptions. You got to understand that.”
“I wouldn’t bother you if it weren’t important,” she said coolly.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll go in here an’ talk.” He pointed to the echoing emptiness of the library. “I’d offer you a chair, but the only ones I got are in my bedroom. You wanta go up there?” He gave her a grinning leer.
“Definitely not. What I want to talk about, Mr. Taggert, is whether or not you are quite serious about your marriage proposal to me.”
“You think I got the time to waste doin’ all the courtin’ I been doin’ if I wasn’t serious?”
“Courting?” she said. “Yes, I guess you could call Sunday morning courting. What I want to ask you, sir, is, well, have you ever killed or hired someone to kill for you?”
Kane’s mouth dropped open and his eyes grew angry, but then he began to look amused. “No, I ain’t never killed nobody. What else you wanta know about me?”
“Anything you care to tell me,” she said seriously.
“Ain’t much. I grew up in Jacob Fenton’s stable”—a muscle twitched in his cheek–“I got tossed out for messin’ with his daughter and I been makin’ money since then. I ain’t killed nobody, robbed nobody, cheated nobody, never beat up no woman and only knocked out an average number of men. Anythin’ else?”
“Yes. When you proposed, you said you wanted me to furnish your house. What do I get to do with you?”
“With me?” With a grin, he looped his thumbs in the empty belt loops on his trousers. “I ain’t gonna hold nothin’ back from you if that’s what you mean.”
“I do not mean whatever you’re implying, I’m sure,” she said stiffly. “Mr. Taggert,” she said, as she began walking around him. “I know men who work in coal mines who are better dressed than you are. And your language is atrocious, as well as your manners. My mother is scared to death of my marrying a barbarian like you. Since I cannot spend my life frightening my own mother, you will have to agree to some instruction from me.”
“Instruction?” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “What can you teach me?”
“How to dress properly. How to eat—.”
“Eat? I eat plenty.”
“Mr. Taggert, you keep mentioning names like Vanderbilt and Gould. Tell me, were you ever invited to the homes of any of those families when the women were present?”
“No, but—,” he began, then looked away. “I was once, but there was an accident and some dishes got broke.”
“I see. I wonder how you expect me to be your wife, to run a magnificent house like this, to give dinner parties like you want while you sit at the head of the table eating peas from a knife. I assume you do eat peas with a knife.”
“I don’t eat peas at all. A man needs meat, and he don’t need a woman to tell him—.”
“Good day, sir.” She turned on her heel and took two steps before he grabbed her arm.
“You ain’t gonna marry me if I don’t let you teach me?”
“And dress you, and shave you.”
“Anxious to see my face, are you?” he grinned, but stopped when he saw how serious Houston was. “How long I got to decide this?”
“About ten minutes.”
He grimaced. “Who taught you how to do business? Let me think about this then.” He walked toward a window, and stood there for several long minutes.
“I got some requests of you,” he said when he came back to her. “I know you’re marryin’ me for my money.” He put up his hand when she began to speak. “Ain’t no use denyin’ it. You wouldn’t consider marryin’ me with my knife–eatin’ ways if I
“Good day, Houston,” Edan said with a slight smile.
“Women!” she heard Kane say behind her. “I told you a woman’d take a lot of my time.”
He caught up with her at the front door. “Maybe I was a little hasty,” he said. “It’s just that when I’m workin’ I don’t like no interruptions. You got to understand that.”
“I wouldn’t bother you if it weren’t important,” she said coolly.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll go in here an’ talk.” He pointed to the echoing emptiness of the library. “I’d offer you a chair, but the only ones I got are in my bedroom. You wanta go up there?” He gave her a grinning leer.
“Definitely not. What I want to talk about, Mr. Taggert, is whether or not you are quite serious about your marriage proposal to me.”
“You think I got the time to waste doin’ all the courtin’ I been doin’ if I wasn’t serious?”
“Courting?” she said. “Yes, I guess you could call Sunday morning courting. What I want to ask you, sir, is, well, have you ever killed or hired someone to kill for you?”
Kane’s mouth dropped open and his eyes grew angry, but then he began to look amused. “No, I ain’t never killed nobody. What else you wanta know about me?”
“Anything you care to tell me,” she said seriously.
“Ain’t much. I grew up in Jacob Fenton’s stable”—a muscle twitched in his cheek–“I got tossed out for messin’ with his daughter and I been makin’ money since then. I ain’t killed nobody, robbed nobody, cheated nobody, never beat up no woman and only knocked out an average number of men. Anythin’ else?”
“Yes. When you proposed, you said you wanted me to furnish your house. What do I get to do with you?”
“With me?” With a grin, he looped his thumbs in the empty belt loops on his trousers. “I ain’t gonna hold nothin’ back from you if that’s what you mean.”
“I do not mean whatever you’re implying, I’m sure,” she said stiffly. “Mr. Taggert,” she said, as she began walking around him. “I know men who work in coal mines who are better dressed than you are. And your language is atrocious, as well as your manners. My mother is scared to death of my marrying a barbarian like you. Since I cannot spend my life frightening my own mother, you will have to agree to some instruction from me.”
“Instruction?” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “What can you teach me?”
“How to dress properly. How to eat—.”
“Eat? I eat plenty.”
“Mr. Taggert, you keep mentioning names like Vanderbilt and Gould. Tell me, were you ever invited to the homes of any of those families when the women were present?”
“No, but—,” he began, then looked away. “I was once, but there was an accident and some dishes got broke.”
“I see. I wonder how you expect me to be your wife, to run a magnificent house like this, to give dinner parties like you want while you sit at the head of the table eating peas from a knife. I assume you do eat peas with a knife.”
“I don’t eat peas at all. A man needs meat, and he don’t need a woman to tell him—.”
“Good day, sir.” She turned on her heel and took two steps before he grabbed her arm.
“You ain’t gonna marry me if I don’t let you teach me?”
“And dress you, and shave you.”
“Anxious to see my face, are you?” he grinned, but stopped when he saw how serious Houston was. “How long I got to decide this?”
“About ten minutes.”
He grimaced. “Who taught you how to do business? Let me think about this then.” He walked toward a window, and stood there for several long minutes.
“I got some requests of you,” he said when he came back to her. “I know you’re marryin’ me for my money.” He put up his hand when she began to speak. “Ain’t no use denyin’ it. You wouldn’t consider marryin’ me with my knife–eatin’ ways if I
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