Читать книгу Luke's Runaway Bride - Kate Bridges, Kate Bridges - Страница 9

Dawn. Despite the cool, blue morning mist, sunlight twinkled through the wall boards of the boxcar, and Jenny’s eyes blinked open. She shivered in the crisp air, remembering where she was.

It wasn’t a dream. Her heart squeezed in anguish. She was here, a captured woman with a man she didn’t know. Would today be the day she escaped?

Where was Olivia and how was she this morning? Jenny closed her eyes for a moment, then determination surged through her. She wouldn’t let him win. She’d keep alert to her surroundings and lunge at the first opportunity to flee. Blazes, maybe it’d help if she were friendly.

Still wearing his sheepskin jacket buttoned to the top, she pushed herself from the straw. Was the train slowing down? It was rocking differently. While she stretched her arms to shake off her sleep, Luke sprang to his feet in the opposite corner. She started. With his cowboy boots pounding on the floor planks, his spurs jangling, he banged his fists on the wall to signal his man on the other side. A thud echoed in response.

Luke returned to his magnificent blood bay. Sunlight glistened off its red flanks. “Morning,” Luke said as he saddled his mount. Was he talking to her or the stallion? She didn’t answer.

Trying to ignore his masculine presence, she ran her fingers through her twisted hair, yanking on the knots. She got it into some degree of order, then flattened it on the top. Removing several of the hairpins, she did a makeshift job of tying it into a beaver tail. It would have to do.

From beneath her lashes, she couldn’t resist stealing another glance at Luke. Still in his black denim pants, he’d changed his shirt and donned a knee-length leather coat. He looked almost respectable.

Watching him work, she noticed how skillful he was with animals. His movements emphasized his forceful shoulders, slim hips and muscular thighs. Any woman would think he and his mount were striking, standing side by side. She shouldn’t feel guilty for thinking it herself, about the power and muscle in both man and beast.

The man was a beast, she decided. He should be shackled and chained. He would be once they caught him, she realized with satisfaction.

While he adjusted his saddlebags, she watched his long fingers at work. If what he told her last night about his father were true… What kind of family did he come from? No wonder he was all scarred up. It must come from breaking the law, just like his father.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Lord, when she thought about last night in Daniel’s office, when Luke had looked like he was about to kiss her—

She pushed away her disturbing thoughts. She pitied him—that’s what she felt. Only pity. “Are we getting off here?”

“Yeah.” Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. He needed a shave. If he’d lend her a straight blade, she’d give him a shave he’d never forget.

“Is this the Cheyenne station?”

“No, it’s the stop before.”

She sat taller, her voice sharp. “I thought you said we’re going to Cheyenne.”

“We are. But the last thing I need is two women hollering murder in the middle of the station.” He worked quickly to buckle straps. “We’ll go the rest of the distance by horse.”

Ride a horse? By herself? She didn’t know how. She’d never tried. Her throat constricted. “Am I supposed to ride the other horse?”

Luke glanced at the sorrel. “That one’s not mine. I’m not a horse thief.”

She jumped to her feet and brushed straw off her dress. “How honorable,” she said with a shake of her head. “You steal women but not horses.”

His lips quirked with humor as he finished with the lines.

“Do you find everything I say amusing?” she asked.

“Just about.”

“Well, then, I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Suit yourself.” A hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. He looked charming, and she squirmed with irritation at the thought.

Unmoved by her cold stare, he slid open the bulky door. His firm, square hand was strong and callused, like the rest of him, and no doubt he was accustomed to working hard. How could such a hardworking man be so down on his luck? Why didn’t he try harder?

He’d said he was taking her to meet someone. Who? A relative? A…former girl of Daniel’s? Was Luke trying to make trouble between her and Daniel?

Jenny knew Daniel was a popular man. Women had been vying for his attention at the Independence Day celebrations from the minute Jenny’d met him. He was a terrific dancer, dancing the smoothest waltz with her. Hadn’t she told him so? Hadn’t he smiled that gracious smile and insisted on having every dance with her, despite the other women?

No matter who Luke was taking her to see, she wouldn’t let it upset her. Luke was the criminal, not Daniel.

She stepped to the open door beside Luke’s tall, lean form and gazed out. Morning sunshine slanted into the boxcar, drenching her. The heat felt good. Clouds that looked like cotton candy swirled in a blue sky. Miles of golden grass, as high as her waist, rippled to the horizon. She peered ahead of the train. Tall aspens, their leaves quaking in the wind, lined a trickling creek. As the train chugged along, a herd of pronghorn antelope drinking at the water’s edge scampered into the pines.

She took a deep, heady breath of pure mountain air. It was so beautiful. More beautiful than she ever could have imagined, back in Boston. The breathless grace of the Wyoming Territory filled her with a sense of awe.

Then the train screeched around a bend and she stumbled, bracing herself quickly. The sheepskin lining of Luke’s jacket cushioned her arms.

Grabbing the edge of the door, Luke hung out the boxcar beside her and hollered something to his man. The wind was whistling and she couldn’t hear what they said. When Luke came back, he swung up on his horse. He had to duck his head so it wouldn’t hit the ceiling.

He motioned for her to mount behind him. Good Lord, he didn’t really expect her to jump that high, did he?

The sound of the horse snorting and the sight of it pawing the floor made her heart pound with fear. She stepped back. Luke, wild and unshaven, looking every bit as much a beast as his sleek horse, stretched out his hand to her. She cleared her throat, about to declare that she didn’t ride, when he suddenly clicked his tongue in frustration, swooped down with a muscled arm and scooped her up.

In a swirl of petticoats, she landed behind him in the hard saddle. It was one hell of a tight fit. What was she supposed to hang on to? In a panic, suddenly dizzy, she gripped his coat pocket.

Before she had time to adjust herself, the horse leaped off the boxcar. They plunged into the blazing sunrise. The wind snatched her hair. Her stomach rose and fell. “Ahhh…!”

The horse hit the ground and galloped hard. They’d made it! A thrill danced up her spine. But there was no way she was putting her arms around Luke. Instead, she tried to hold the edge of his coat, then the saddle. Anything but him. She swayed and dipped, clawing to maintain her balance.

“Sit still,” he hollered.

Still? How could she keep still when she’d never sat this close to a man, in such an intimate position? The back of his thighs felt hard and sleek along the front of hers, and she couldn’t escape the salty scent of his skin. A current of excitement raced through her with every bump, every jostle of his muscles against hers. She shivered and tried to push away.

She couldn’t budge. And she had to keep her legs and buttocks clenched to keep from slipping off.

They rode into a muddy clearing, crossed a line of cedars and splashed through a riverbed. As they headed down toward a grass-covered valley, Luke slowed the horse to a trot. Jenny wiped her sweaty palms on her velvet skirts and tried to loosen the stiffness in her arms. Her chest started to feel hot inside the sheepskin coat.

Ten minutes passed, then an hour. Her breathing steadied. Her hands stopped trembling. The wind tugged at her loosened hair and she found herself enjoying the sensation.

The horse swayed, and for the tenth time, her cheek brushed Luke’s leather-covered shoulder. His body heat singed her cheek. His thighs rippled against hers once more, and she quivered. To take her mind off the man between her legs, she thought of Daniel.

Where was he? Did he miss her? How many men had he organized to chase after her? He’d be at the front of the pack, she envisioned, leading everyone. She couldn’t imagine him with a gun, though. Did he carry one? All she ever saw him carry was that silver pocket watch and a cigar. If he never carried a gun, then who had shot Luke in the office yesterday? The guard?

And she couldn’t imagine Daniel on horseback like Luke was now, roaring through the fields, leaping off the edge of a train, and just…well, just taking a woman he wanted. No, Daniel was a gentleman in every sense of the word, and Luke was…a hotheaded cowboy with no thought of tomorrow.

She tipped her face to the sun and let it caress her. It warmed her skin. In Boston, she never got to spend much time outdoors, or feel the wind or sun on her skin. If she were riding in Boston, she’d be forced to wear a bonnet.

Boston had stifled her—being stuck in the house at eighteen, when her grandmother had passed away. Father thought that’s where proper ladies belonged, but Jenny didn’t. What was wrong with getting an education?

After many fruitless arguments, Jenny had in the end cleaned and laundered and mended alongside Olivia, not because she had to but because of boredom. Soon, Jenny had started sneaking a peek at her brothers’ college books on commerce and accounting. Olivia read the ones about American history. As children, Jenny and Olivia had learned to read together, taught by Jenny’s grandmother.

Olivia. She hoped Olivia, who was no doubt galloping behind them, was also enjoying the fresh air, for it would give them the vigor to fight when the opportunity came.

Energized by the sun, Jenny looked up at the wide blue sky, thinking of all her reasons for coming West. Her father had his dreams of expanding the railroad, and her brothers had theirs of mining and working in pharmaceuticals. The men in her family weren’t interested in listening to her, but she would show them all she had a brain and could use it in business as well as they could. Maybe better. It was at times like these, she imagined, that daughters turned to their mothers for guidance. Jenny, at two, had lost her own mother to cholera.

Ah, well. It had happened a long time ago, and Jenny preferred to look at the future. She smiled in the warm wind, reminding herself that more women owned shops in Denver than they did in Boston. More women were allowed to charge out on their own. Although the two Denver bankers she’d secretly approached for a loan had laughed at her ideas for an undergarment shop, she’d have a store yet. What exactly, she wasn’t sure, but with her beloved’s help she’d do it.

All she had to do was get back to him. If it weren’t for this man, robbing her of the very freedom she cherished most…

Jenny reached out and patted the horse’s red coat. The animal’s hooves pounded beneath her in a steady rhythm. She glanced down at the waving grass. Their interlocked shadows, two riders atop a horse, sailed along the ground.

Why couldn’t she hear the hoofbeats of the other horse? Olivia should be close behind. Shifting in the saddle, letting go of Luke’s coat, Jenny craned her neck and glanced back.

She lost her balance. Panicked, she started to slide, and tried to jerk herself in the other direction.

Luke swore. She felt him grab her skirt and yank. “Hang on!”

With a loud rip, her dress tore. She slid off and hit the ground, rolling in the dirt. A rock smacked her temple. It stung. Her vision clouded. Sprawled on her back, she stayed put and tried to catch her breath.

“Whoa, boy, simmer down,” she heard Luke say in the distance. Then he was by her side. “Jenny! Are you hurt?”

She felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. She inhaled slowly and her eyesight cleared. He was looking down at her, his dark brows creased in concern. She hadn’t thought he was capable of any tenderness.

She groaned, trying to rise on an elbow. “I think I’m fine, but my head…”

He slid his hand along her back to support her. Much too close. The shadow of a beard made him look like a wild wolf. “You’ve got a little cut.”

He brushed her forehead with gentle fingertips, then his gaze came back to hers. His dark eyes were deep, warm pools and she felt herself submerging. “You don’t know how to ride,” he said.

It all seemed so ridiculous—the ride, her formal gown…. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

His eyes twinkled and he smiled at her. A kind, handsome smile. Her pulse skittered. She tried to fight it. “Are you laughing at me again?”

“No,” he said, ever so softly. “Why are you so stubborn? Why couldn’t you hold on to me, nice and proper?”

There was nothing nice or proper about their positions on the horse. Suddenly, she became aware of how close they were sitting, how firm his arm felt around her shoulders, how fresh and manly the scent of his skin. Underneath his coat, the collar of his crisp shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a thatch of silky black hair, leading down his chest to who knew where.

He seemed to come to his senses first and jerked away. “Stay here, I’ll get something for your cut.”

She tried to sit up, but her right upper arm rocked with pain. She rolled back to one elbow.

Luke returned with a cloth and dabbed at her forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me you can’t ride?”

“I didn’t have time.”

He pushed his hat back. The sweat-dampened hair at his temples glistened in the sunshine. “It’s my fault, I should have asked. I’m sorry.”

Finally, an apology for something. He kept dabbing. “You surprise me. A polished lady from the East, dressed in velvet, wearing imported perfume…yet you sure spit tacks. You don’t complain very much, do you? I mean, about sleeping in a pile of straw or at being thrown onto a horse when you don’t know how to ride.”

She broke their intimate gaze. The words seemed harmless, but the sincerity in his eyes… He was sitting so close she could feel the breeze whisper off his skin. How did a man like him know her perfume was imported?

How did she wind up this near to him? She squirmed away.

“Hey, come back here, it’s almost cleaned up.” He moved closer, poured water from his canteen onto the cloth and wiped her forehead. When he looked into her eyes again, her pulse rushed like a waterfall.

His gaze went lower, down to her quivering lips and then back up. A powerful awareness shot through her. He seemed different than he had last night. Gone was the hardened stranger and in his place was a compassionate man, rugged and appealing.

“Let me help you to your feet.”

“No, it’s all right…” She shouldn’t allow herself to be swayed. He was her captor and she was his prisoner.

It was too late to stop him. Attempting to pull her up, he grasped her upper arms, but squeezed the sore one by mistake. She yelped.

“You’re hurt.” He released her. His face creased with concern as his gaze skimmed over the jacket. “Where?”

“My right arm.”

“Let me check to see if it’s broken.”

“No, please—”

He was unbuttoning the sheepskin jacket before she could stop him, his warm hand grazing her shoulder, trailing down her bare arm. She tried to ignore his touch and the tingling sensations.

“It’s not broken, thank God,” he said. His charcoal-gray eyes, flecked with cinnamon-brown, glistened as he looked at her. A knot tightened in her belly.

His fingers slid from under the jacket, more of a caress than a withdrawal. His gaze slid down to her mouth.

She knew it was coming, but in her mind she whispered No.

She heard a shameless moan of surrender. Good grief, it was coming from her. She turned her face away so his lips couldn’t meet hers. His mouth grazed her earlobe instead, sending a shudder through her body.

She thought turning away would stop him, but he kept going, hungrily kissing her jaw, skimming his lips along her throat. She gasped. No man had ever kissed her neck before, and his warm lips were as soft as butterflies. Although untouched, her nipples ached, as if he were teasing them with feathers.

His lips tantalized her throat to the base of the hollow. In a rush of desire, she arched her neck. How would his demanding lips feel on hers?

No. This was bad. This should stop.

She tried to wrench away. He followed, not allowing a break. She gasped for air. “Please…”

How would Daniel react to seeing her here? Shame tore at her. “No. I said no—”

She ripped free, raised a palm and slapped him hard across the face. “I’m engaged to a man you call your friend.”

He blinked. She watched the red stain of her handprint rise on his cheek. Who the hell did he think he was?

Regret flitted across his face. He slid the jacket closed.

With a shaky sigh, he turned away. “You have my word this won’t happen again. Button up. I’ll help you back on the horse. We’ve got miles to go.”

There was no way in hell anyone was going to take advantage of Daniel Kincaid. Daniel bit off the tip of his fresh cigar and spat it into the dusty street. If he came within five feet of Luke McLintock, he guaranteed Luke wouldn’t rise from the dirt for days.

Dressed in a freshly pressed worsted wool suit, silk vest, cravat and overcoat, he rubbed at the kink in his neck. Blazes, he needed a drink. He smacked his dry lips together and lit his stogy. His temples pounded from lack of sleep.

What the hell was McLintock trying to prove?

For cryin’ out loud, it was just a kid they were fighting over. A Mexican. And how did anyone know for sure who the father was? Might be anyone. Hell, it might be Luke.

The only reason Daniel had paid that waitress, Maria, was because he’d been a sitting duck. It was her word against his, but she’d seemed content, and quieter, with two extra dollars in her pocket each month. He shouldn’t have given her that.

If McLintock told Jenny anything about the boy, Daniel would deny every word.

Was he expected to give up his life for this kid?

His mouth twisted. Hellfire! If he knew Luke at all, Luke’d have the kid off his hands quicker than lightning. Luke didn’t want the boy any more than he did.

Daniel gritted his teeth, chomping into the cigar. The bitter taste seeped across his tongue. Since when had Luke become so high and mighty? What had happened to the little squirt who used to follow Daniel around, mirroring his every step as if Daniel were a knight of the round table? Now Luke had proved he was no better than his lowly father.

Cripes, if the bullet had struck an inch lower, McLintock would have dropped dead…

A flash of sunlight blasted off the bank window into Daniel’s eyes. Squinting, he turned the corner.

Blazes. The gun had gone off by accident. Was that why McLintock was doing this? To get even for the bullet graze? So what! McLintock had tried to grab the derringer out of his hand. So Daniel had let him have it! He wished now he’d pulled the trigger deliberately, and hadn’t weakened at the last minute.

And yeah, he’d called the sheriff. McLintock needed to be thrown in jail. Anything to stop him from spreading a false rumor about the boy. Daniel’s shoulders stiffened. His fury yesterday was nothing compared to how he felt today.

He reached the office door and thrust a gold key into the lock.

“Mornin’, Mr. Kincaid, sir,” the night guard rumbled. A former boxer from New York City, Harley Cobbs scoured the street, on the lookout for anything unusual. Daniel had hired him three years ago, the minute he’d laid eyes on Harley’s face, which was as broad and gnarled as the trunk of a weathered pine. Daniel bet if you sliced his skin, you’d see the rings.

“No trouble last night, sir. The office was quiet.”

Daniel turned the knob and kicked the door. He already knew that. The trouble had already fled town, most likely by the quickest method available—the train. Reaching Cheyenne by horseback would take two to three days. “Tell the two other men I don’t need ’em anymore.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” No sense paying for extra security when it wasn’t necessary. Yesterday, he’d hired additional men to protect the office. He hadn’t thought of protecting Jenny, and knowing he’d been outwitted made him seethe. McLintock would pay.

Stalking into his private office, Daniel scanned his morning appointments. It was up to him to make the next move. What else could McLintock do but sit and wait for a response?

In the meantime, Daniel had to deal with Jenny’s father, Nyland Eriksen. Luckily the old geezer was out of town.

What would Nyland say if he knew about the kid? Nyland wouldn’t give his daughter so freely. Daniel’s hands trembled as he butted out his cigar. It’d taken him ten years to get here, on the verge of the best deal this side of the Rockies, a deal with the Union Pacific. A deal with Nyland Eriksen.

Daniel deserved it. He’d scouted and surveyed land for fifteen years, using his wits and know-how to predict where the next tracks would be laid. Over yonder in that flood-prone valley, or dynamiting through the hills? As soon as Daniel was married to Jenny, Nyland promised him a permanent deal. A ten-year contract as the official scout for the railroad. Damned if Luke McLintock was going to blow this deal.

Did he think he could compete with Daniel? Did he think they were in the same league? Why, McLintock would always be nothing but a workin’ class boy. Scrapin’ the manure off other people’s boots. Servin’ them penny beer, for cripes sake, when Daniel was making deals of twenty thousand dollars a crack.

And beautiful Jenny being terrorized by the bastard…why, she was nothing more than a little kitten who needed protecting. Like all women did. Her and her silly notions of opening a store. Daniel planned on keeping her so busy with a brood of her own, she wouldn’t have time to do much else. Thankfully, she could hold her own in business conversations with the mayor and the governor and anyone else Daniel entertained, and he was sure proud to show her off on his arm. Her lush body and quick mind were a delightful bonus, although being Nyland’s daughter would have been enough.

“Morning, Daniel,” cooed a feminine voice behind him.

He spun on his chair and peered up at Sally Bloomfield, one of his clerks. “Mornin’.”

She rubbed her ruby lips together and played with a strand of her brown curls. Well now, didn’t she look tempting? Her curves strained the fabric of her lace blouse, teasing him with a hint of rosy tips. Why was she wearing that blouse? She knew how much he liked it. He had an urge to lay her over the desk and take her, like he had on many occasions. But he was engaged now, and had every intention of living up to his new standards. Four weeks, and he hadn’t strayed. He deserved a medal.

His stare was bold. “I told you before, address me as Mr. Kincaid.”

Sally’s smile faded into a pucker.

He glanced through the office window. “Go get your papers in order. I’ve got a client to tend to.” Stiffly, he edged his tall, muscular frame around her and kept walking.

His business with the miner didn’t take long. The young man was leaving when the doorbell jingled. Daniel glanced up to see who it was.

Queasiness rolled down his spine. “Did you make it in all the way from the Springs this morning, Mrs. Walters?”

The gray-haired woman straightened her bonnet. “Yep, took me nearly two hours.”

“So the train derailment’s been fixed?”

“Yep.”

Oh, hellfire. That meant Nyland would be back in town, looking for his daughter. That changed everything. Daniel excused himself. “Harley, step into my office.”

They crossed through the sunshine beating through the bars of the front windows. Daniel shoved his finger beneath his sweaty collar. His cravat was tighter than a noose. He closed the office door. “I want you to take a trip.”

“Where to?” The ex-boxer curled his hand over the walnut grip of his gun.

“We’re going to Cheyenne. Get two tickets for this evening’s train.” Daniel sputtered with indignation as he explained the situation, sticking to his story about the robbery, and adding a kidnapping-for-ransom charge. “It’s a messy situation. Let’s keep it quiet, so Nyland Eriksen doesn’t find out.”

Something in Harley seemed to come alive. His tired eyes blazed with eagerness. “Are we bringin’ McLintock back?”

“No, just the two women.”

“What should I do to him?”

“Stay behind a few days.” Daniel crossed his arms, leaned against his desk and crossed one booted foot in front of the other. “Get him alone,” he said calmly. “Then I want you to break some bones. Make him feel it.”

Once again in the saddle behind Luke, Jenny tried to pull away. He’d removed his coat, and only the thin cloth of his shirt separated them. Why did he have to be the type of man a woman couldn’t ignore?

He yanked her closer. “You’ll fall off again. Hold tight.”

“I don’t want to.” But she let her arms stay where he placed them, around his muscled waist. She was still shaken from her fall, and the ground below seemed awfully far down.

Her palms were slipping with sweat. A line of perspiration ran down his spine. His back muscles, under the soft cloth where she held him, grew damp, and she swallowed. Her breathing lost its rhythm every time she touched him. What was wrong with her? She wriggled away.

Why had she let him kiss her throat? Why hadn’t she pulled away sooner? It was fear that made her heart pound, she told herself. She didn’t fear Daniel, and that’s why her heart never pounded like this when he kissed her.

Daniel took pains to make her feel comfortable. He never took her anywhere without the proper chaperon, and she wouldn’t be caught dead with him, alone like this.

Another hour passed, but her misery didn’t lessen. The sun’s heat blazed through the jacket. She had a permanent squint from the glare. There was nothing but sagebrush ahead. Two speckled birds chirped from a tree they passed and a jackrabbit darted out from a shrub and slipped into a pocket of dirt.

When would she see Olivia again? Jenny scanned the rolling hills, squinting through the shimmering light, hoping to see someone. A ranch or farmhouse. Anything.

Nothing but dried grass and tumbleweeds. “How much farther?”

“We’re close. Over this hill.” The stallion climbed the gentle slope. Jenny poked her head around Luke’s shoulder to look. Pines and aspens grew along one side of the valley. There must be a stream below. The vegetation was thicker and greener there.

She sighed. “And this is where Olivia and your man Tom are waiting?”

“Hold on now, I didn’t promise they’d meet us here.”

She sprang up. “What? Another trick? But you said—”

“I said they’d meet us in Cheyenne. And they will, in due time.”

Her mouth opened in protest, then closed. Maybe he was lying about ever bringing them together. Maybe she’d have to escape on her own and come back to rescue Olivia.

They crested the hill. The green valley revealed a ranch house and stable, and he was heading straight for them. Who did the ranch belong to? Cattle grazed the fenced slopes, forty or fifty head. She spotted two horses tethered by the hitching post. Would she dare to take one?

Would the opportunity arise?

Their mount slowed as they approached the well-kept homestead. A deep green pond shimmered beside them, the reeds around it thick and as tall as people. The reeds rustled and a muddy boy jumped out, surprising her.

Luke pulled back on the reins to stop the horse. The boy dashed to his side, holding a twisted stick. “You’re home, you’re home!”

Jenny reared back. Who was this child?

With shaggy black hair, he was no more than four or five. He stood barefooted, his skin bronzed the color of gold. His rumpled shirttails were laced with grime and his fingernails blackened with dirt. His smile, though, was a genuine flash of white. And, aimed straight for Luke.

Did Luke have a son? The shocking thought hit her full force.

“Adam,” Luke roared from the saddle, “I can’t believe how dirty one little boy can get.”

A ball of emotion sprang to her throat. The man who’d kidnapped her was a father? He would go to jail for what he’d done. Who’d look after the boy while he was in jail? What kind of a father would put his own boy at risk?

A selfish one. Just like his criminal father.

She sat there, stunned.

Suddenly overcome by the dizzying heat, she squirmed on the saddle. If Luke had a son, did he have a wife?

And what would his wife say to her?

Jenny stared at the empty grounds—at the two-seater swing on the porch, the string of bedsheets hanging on the laundry line, the pretty vase of flowers in the window. A wave of nausea welled inside her as she fought to control her swirling emotions. The man who’d kissed her earlier, who’d brushed his butterfly lips along her throat, was married?