Читать книгу The Texan's Courtship Lessons - Noelle Marchand - Страница 11
ОглавлениеSometimes... Well... Rarely, Isabelle had an idea so brilliant she surprised even herself. As she stepped from the fire escape to the roof of the hotel with Rhett right behind her, she knew this was one of those times. Rhett didn’t seem quite as convinced. He frowned at the flat expanse that slanted only slightly toward the back of the building. “Are you sure this roof is safe?”
“Certainly. It was inspected only a few weeks ago. It’s in tip-top shape.”
He glanced at her curiously. “You know that for a fact? How?”
“I just do.” Her father was a silent partner at the hotel in addition to being the owner of Peppin’s best boardinghouse, but there was no reason to mention that and give a hint to her identity yet. “It sure is dark up here. I guess we should have picked up a lantern or a candle when we stopped to get my coat.”
He shook his head. “We wouldn’t want to chance a fire.”
“True.” The soft glow from the gardens below drew her toward the back edge of the roof. Suddenly, the cold wind changed direction with a mighty swirl that made her stretch out her arms and close her eyes. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly? Imagine. The ground racing by beneath you. Nothing holding you up but air. It must be so freeing.”
“Yeah, we won’t be trying that tonight.” He caught her arm and guided her away from the edge.
“Am I worrying you, Rhett?”
“Not at all.” His nodding head belied his statement.
She laughed. “Well, if I can’t fly, how am I supposed to have my adventure?”
He thought for a moment then grinned. “I’ve never danced on a rooftop, have you?”
“Danced on a... No, I can’t say I have, but there’s no music.” Realizing she could still hear the faint strains of a reel from the ballroom, she amended, “Leastwise, none loud enough to be useful.”
He pulled his harmonica from his pocket, which she was pretty sure was its permanent residence. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I didn’t.”
He ignored her. “Stay on this side of the roof if you want to avoid breaking your neck. How about a waltz—Chopin, Number Seven?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
It was. She shook her head when he began playing almost before she’d even finished talking. Her protests fled after his first few notes. They were soulful, smooth, lilting. Her lashes drifted closed without her permission as the passion he infused into each note enveloped her like a warm embrace. Before she knew it, the last note was fading into the night. She opened her eyes to find Rhett watching her with a bemused half smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t dance.”
“That was... You...didn’t, either. Play it again, Rhett.”
This time she couldn’t break away from his riveting gaze as he started over from the beginning. She swayed in time with the music then smiled when he mirrored her movements so that it felt as if they were dancing together without even touching. The sway became a waltz. Isabelle spun, her skirt swirling out around her. Rhett brushed past her. Suddenly, they were waltzing around each other, nearly colliding at times but never touching, held only by each other’s gaze until Rhett drew out the last note long enough to give a deep, courtly bow. She responded in character with a regal curtsy.
A gust of wind swirled past her with enough force to urge her a step closer to Rhett, yet she hardly felt the cold as she responded to the warmth of his smile with one of her own. The faint sounds filtering up from the party below turned into a full-blown commotion. She forced herself to speak, though her words came out rather low and breathless. “I suppose it must be midnight.”
“Must be.” He tilted his head and lifted a brow. “There’s a small matter of tradition, you know.”
“Tradition?” She watched the focus of his amber eyes shift toward her lips. Realization spread through at the speed of her racing heart and instant blush. “Oh, I suppose there is. However, under the circumstances...”
He eased close enough that she had to tilt her head back slightly to look at him. She had a feeling she should step back, but the message didn’t quite make it to her feet, which stayed resolutely put. The moon drifted from behind a cloud to highlight the strong angle of his jaw and she got a little distracted. She’d been saying something. “What I mean is, I don’t think it’s necessary...”
A distant whine filled the air before a pop of sound and color filled the night sky. The fireworks were starting. She should point that out. My, but he was taking his time, wasn’t he? If he really was going to kiss her, why didn’t he do it instead of hovering a breath away and making her all sorts of confused? Her lashes fluttered closed of their own accord. His first kiss was featherlight and unsatisfyingly brief. Just as disappointment set in, he kissed her again. This time, pressing one hand against her back to draw her closer and tilting her chin upward. She leaned into him.
Light flashed against her closed eyes while a boom rattled the building beneath her feet. She assumed it was a side effect of the kiss until Rhett pulled her down to kneel on the roof beside him. Dazed, she stared up at the black sky as balls of colored fire rained toward them, out of control and dangerously close. She screamed as sizzling green light whizzed past her, then she covered her ears as the explosions continued. “What is happening?”
“The fireworks. They’re misfiring. We need to get off this roof. Now.”
He practically carried her to the fire escape. She tried to keep up with him as they began their descent but her skirt billowed in the wind, making it hard for her to see each step. Rhett offered her a guiding hand. She shook her head. “Go on ahead. You’ll make it down faster without me. I’ll be right behind you.”
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you, Isabelle.”
“You’re part of the fire brigade. Someone may need help. Go!”
He hesitated only long enough to nod before taking off down the stairs.
* * *
Rhett hated to leave Isabelle behind, but she was right. He was a volunteer firefighter and, by the look he’d gleaned while they were on the roof, something had already caught fire from the initial explosion. Whatever it was looked to be close to his own cabin, which meant it was in a residential area. Someone could be trapped or hurt. Still, as he neared the bottom of the steep, winding staircase, he couldn’t help glancing upward to make sure that Isabelle was managing all right. She looked to be making a steady, if somewhat cautious, progress down the stairs.
Missing the next step completely, Rhett stepped into nothingness. He pitched forward, tripped down the next couple of steps and grasped the railing in time to keep from tumbling the rest of the way face-first. His panting breaths filled his ears along with the thundering of his racing heart. Pausing only an instant longer to regain his equilibrium, he marched back up the stairs to Isabelle. He ignored her startled look as he grasped her hand to help her navigate the last flight of stairs. “I almost broke my neck rushing down. There’s no way I’m letting you do the same.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, Rhett, did you hurt yourself?”
“I don’t think so.” A twinge of pain in his right ankle belied his statement, but he ignored it as they finally made it safely to the ground. He didn’t bother to release her hand as he led her toward the back garden gate. “Come on. I know a shortcut.”
They cut through the alley to the next street, where they merged with the stream of people rushing toward the fire. The whistling and popping of fireworks had faded away, leaving only shouts and confused murmurs to fill the night air. The pain in his ankle continued to build until it slowed his steps enough for Isabelle to notice. She latched on to his arm with her free hand as they wound through the crowd. “You’re limping.”
“I’m fine.” That wasn’t entirely true, but at the moment he didn’t care. They were getting close to the corner where he lived. Too close. He ignored Jeff Bridger, the local deputy, who was trying to keep everyone back, and pushed to the very front of the crowd. His stomach dropped all the way to boots then rose to his throat. He swallowed hard even as a groan filled his chest.
Isabelle’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. “Is it your leg?”
“No, that’s my house.”
He heard Isabelle’s gasp as she took in the sight for herself. Meanwhile, he could do nothing but stare at the bright orange flames that engulfed the entire front half of the structure. Plumes of smoke drifted upward to mingle with the night sky. Fanned by a gusting wind, the fire sent sparks spiraling toward the house next-door to his. The sight was enough to set him in motion. He stepped forward to speak with the deputy. “Jeff, have my neighbors been accounted for?”
“Yes, and they said you were at the masquerade.” Jeff must not have attended for he was dressed in his normal cowboy garb complete with a badge on his chest. “The sheriff was looking for you, though. I reckon he wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Suddenly, a musketeer and a man in a Renaissance costume broke free of the crowd. Deputy Bridger called out a warning to anyone who might try to follow them. Ignoring it completely, Rhett went after them, drawn by the urgency in their gestures. They stopped to speak to another musketeer who’d been dousing a pile of leftover fireworks. Rhett could only maintain his running stride for a few seconds before the pain in his ankle forced his steps to slow to a walk. That gave him time to recognize the voice of his best friend, Quinn Tucker, despite the man’s Renaissance costume. “There’s no time to argue. I’m going in.”
“I’m the sheriff of this town,” Sean O’Brien declared. “It’s my responsibility to keep everyone safe. I’m going, and that’s final.”
Rhett finally made it to the outskirts of their small circle. “How can y’all be arguing at a time like this? No one should be going anywhere until we put that fire out.”
The three men turned to stare at him with shock and relief plainly written across their faces. Quinn stepped forward to pull him into a bear hug. Rhett thumped him on his back more in an effort to knock some sense into him than anything. Having had enough of the display, Rhett stepped away only to have Lawson, the third man from the argument, slap him on the shoulder. “We were arguing about who would have the privilege of saving your hide.”
“My hide is fine, but I do appreciate your concern.”
Sean blew out a heavy breath of relief then nodded beneath his jaunty wide-brimmed hat. “We were afraid you might be trapped inside the house since you’d told Lawson and Ellie that you were going home early.”
“Oh.” Rhett glanced back in search of Isabelle, but she’d been swallowed by the crowd. “I meant to, but I got a little distracted.”
“Good thing, too.” Quinn crossed his arms and nodded toward the fire. They all turned to follow Quinn’s gaze in time to see the front of the house collapse in on itself. Rhett braced himself for the wave of despair that was sure to hit. Instead, he only felt the numbness of shock. That was probably for the best. Right now, his focus needed to be on others. “Was anyone else hurt?”
“My pa would know.” Lawson scanned the crowd, presumably for his adoptive father, Doc Williams. “I’m sure he’s here somewhere. I think I’ll scout around to see if I can find him or someone who might need him.”
“My house is a lost cause. Our focus should be on keeping the fire from spreading.”
Sean nodded, already backing away. “I’ll get some men to help me soak down the houses beside yours.”
Rhett glanced around for some way to be of use. “Come on, Quinn. Even if we can’t save the house, we need to keep the fire under control. Let’s join the bucket brigade.”
Quinn stopped him after only a handful of steps. “You’re limping. Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”
“I twisted my ankle on the way down the fire escape. That’s all.”
“Fire escape?”
“Yeah, I was on the roof with...”
Suddenly realizing the facts might sound a little less than respectable, he decided to stop talking. Apparently, the decision came a second too late for the confusion in his friend’s gaze had turned to speculation. “With a distraction? A female distraction perhaps?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Quinn lifted a brow. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
How could he when he hadn’t even had time to sort through it himself? He shifted his focus back to the fire. “There isn’t the time for that, Quinn. We need to find some way to help out.”
“What you need to do is sit down. I’ll find Doc. Meanwhile, you should resign yourself to staying with me and Helen for a while.”
“Staying with...?” He blinked, realizing he had no place to sleep tonight. “Y’all don’t have to do that. I can stay at the hotel.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t stay at your place long-term, anyway. Y’all are practically newlyweds. Besides, I’ve got a business to run in town. I need to be close to it.”
Quinn gave him a doubtful look. “Depending on what Doc says, you may not be running anything for a while. Now, will you go sit down?”
“No. I told you I’ll be fine.” Rhett did his best to minimize his limp as he walked to the bucket brigade. He didn’t want to sit down until the fire was under control, and he knew no one else’s house was in danger. He might be starting the New Year with nothing more than a pirate costume and a harmonica, but that didn’t mean anyone else should have to lose their home.
Knowing he’d be too slow to do much good at the front of the line, where men raced back and forth to the fire, he stood near the back and helped pass buckets down the line. It wasn’t something that took a lot of thought, so his mind strayed back to those few minutes when he was alone on the hotel roof with Isabelle. It had been beyond perfect. He hadn’t stammered or stuttered once as far as he could remember. He’d kissed her, though. He remembered that—vividly.
Had his prayers finally been answered, then? Had God taken away his impediment around women? What other explanation could there be for what had happened with Isabelle?
He couldn’t think of one. Of course, he wasn’t exactly of a mind-set to try too hard at it, either. With so much turning to ash around him, how could he not fan the few embers of hope still burning in his heart?
* * *
As soon as Rhett left her, Isabelle took off in the opposite direction. He might not realize it yet, but he was going to need someplace to stay. She knew exactly who could help him with that. She stumbled into that very man as she rounded the corner toward Main Street. “Pa.”
“Isabelle!” Her father pulled her into a tight hug then stepped back to look at her. “Are you all right? What was that sound?”
“I’m fine.” She told him about the fireworks exploding before explaining that Rhett’s house was on fire. “Surely, there’s something we can do to help him now that he has nowhere to go.”
For the first time since Amy’s elopement, she saw her father’s eyes fill with a mix of determination and purpose regarding the boardinghouse. “Of course we can. We have a vacant room. He’ll stay with us rent-free for a while.”
“Thank you, Pa. I knew you’d feel that way. The only problem is that he hurt his ankle in the rush to get to the fire. I’m not sure he’ll be able to make it up the stairs right now.”
“He can stay in my study until he’s healed a bit.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Go on home, sweetheart. Help your ma set up one of the extra mattresses in that room. I’ll see what I can do to help at the fire.”
She rushed home to do exactly that. When her younger sister offered to help their mother set things up for Rhett, Isabelle found herself returning to the fire. The scene was far less chaotic than when she’d left it. The volunteer fire brigade seemed to have everything under control, though they still battled to put the fire completely out. Bystanders, mainly women, watched in groups. Most still wore their costumes from the masquerade, but had taken off their masks. That helped her spot Helen and Quinn near the front of the crowd.
“I was wondering where you were,” Helen said as she gave Isabelle a quick hug. “Quinn and I have been trying to figure out what we can do for Rhett.”
Quinn grimaced. “More like, what he’ll let us do.”
“Where is he?”
Quinn nodded toward the fire. “He’s somewhere out there battling the fire even though I know he’s in pain. He says he twisted his ankle coming down a—”
Isabelle hushed him as she glanced around, half expecting to find her father standing behind her with a scowl on his face. Thankfully, he was nowhere in sight. He might be a little more reluctant to extend their family’s hospitality if he guessed she’d been on the hotel roof with Rhett. Her father had taken her up there before, and he’d never said that she couldn’t go up with anyone else. He’d only said she shouldn’t go alone. Of course, there was also the not-so-little matter of the midnight kiss she’d shared with Rhett. “I wouldn’t spread that around if I were you. It might get someone in trouble.”
Helen’s mouth fell open then curved into a smile. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the distraction Rhett told Quinn about.”
“He doesn’t know it was...” Her voice faded at the memory of Rhett’s words after the explosion. I’m not leaving you, Isabelle. Her mouth fell open. He’d known who she was. For how long, though? Since before the kiss? Surely not or he wouldn’t have instigated it in the first place. Quinn’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced up at him, not liking the thoughtful, speculative look in his eyes one iota. “Isabelle, maybe you’d have more success in convincing him to sit down and let Doc take a look at his ankle.”
“I doubt it, but I’ll try.”
He wasn’t in the bucket brigade anymore, but one of the other men was kind enough to point her in the right direction. She was glad to find Rhett off his ankle even if it was only because he had to kneel to work the handle of one of the town’s outdoor water pumps. He didn’t seem to hear her call his name as he determinedly filled buckets for the other men. She placed a hand on his shoulder only for him to shrug it off without looking. “For the last time, Quinn—”
“Rhett.”
He glanced up. His eyes widened then filled with warmth. He released the handle of the pump. Someone else immediately took his place as he struggled to his feet. His ankle gave way as soon as he put weight on it. Isabelle quickly slipped an arm around his waist to brace him. “You need to let Doc look at your ankle. Let’s find you someplace to rest then I’ll go get him.”
His lips pressed together in a grim line, but he agreed with a single nod. She guided him toward an out-of-the-way spot nearby. He put his arm around her shoulder, but barely put any weight on her as he limped toward the raised wooden sidewalk nearby. He gave one final hop then turned to sit down. Catching her hand before she could leave, he tugged it gently. “Wait. Sit with me for a minute.”
A protest rose to her lips. Then she looked into his eyes. She saw the intensity there. She realized he wasn’t trying to put off being seen by the doctor. He wanted to talk about their kiss. What was there to say? It had been a simple New Year’s Eve kiss between friends. Nothing more, nothing less.
Then why were her cheeks burning? Why was her heart fluttering? Why was panic seeping through her body? She pushed away those emotions with a lift of her chin as she lowered her gaze from his to their joined hands. His grasp was gentle, easily breakable. Yet, it held her like a butterfly caught in a net. “Rhett, we don’t have to talk about this.”
“I think we should.”
She glanced around to make sure no one was within listening distance before sitting beside him on the sidewalk. “It was merely a kiss. A simple mistake prompted by a silly tradition. I don’t expect anything more to happen between us. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“You don’t expect anything more or you don’t want anything more?”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes. A big one. I didn’t expect to kiss you tonight. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to or wouldn’t want to again.”
Her mouth fell open. “Rhett Granger, I’m surprised at you. If you think—”
“Well, good. I’m surprised at myself, too. You saw me with Amy. I was constantly tripping over myself, saying all the wrong things, outright panicking. I’m always like that when things turn romantic, but that hasn’t happened tonight with you.” His amber gaze captured hers, his bemusement obvious. “Not even before the kiss. Not even now. I was hoping that meant something.”
She stared at him as disappointment battled for dominance with whatever strange emotion made her heart flutter. She’d intended to write the kiss off as a mistake, hoping it didn’t mean exactly what he was saying it did—Rhett was no different that her sister’s other suitors, or her parents, or the town. He saw her as nothing more than a substitute for the woman he’d loved and lost to another man. Only this was even worse because he seemed to particularly appreciate the fact that he didn’t find her as attractive as he had Amy. What other explanation could there be for why he didn’t get as nervous around her as he did with someone he was actually attracted to?
He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair as some of his boldness faded into a bashful smile. “Besides that, I thought tonight was pretty special—before the explosion.”
Her heart softened at his words. She didn’t want to admit it, but there was no denying it. “It was special.”
Unfortunately, that didn’t change anything. As flattering as his interest was and as sincere as he seemed to be in comparison to her sister’s other former suitors, she would still never be Amy—the one he truly wanted. She wasn’t even the mysterious Cleopatra he’d approached in the ballroom last night. She was simply boring, ordinary Isabelle. Once he figured that out, he was bound to be disappointed. She’d save them both a world of trouble by putting a stop to this right here and now.
Yet, how could she while looking straight into the hope in his eyes? Besides that, he was still in the midst of losing his home. It didn’t seem fair or kind to rebuff him right now. If only there was a way to help him find the relationship he was seeking—one that didn’t involve her. She froze as a sudden flash of insight showed her a perfect way to help him and distract him from any ideas he might have about her.
