Bronx shortened his stride a bit to match Lila’s, and her giddiness matched her pounding blood. Around then, afternoon sun had made Leadville’s temperature almost livable. But gray clouds winding atop Mt. Massive started to tie themselves into knots of rain. Rain, or even snow showers tonight. Oh, last night she had been so complete and warm against Bronx’s chest...
How would it be in Cape Girardeau now? she wondered. Then, she frowned. What would Emmett make of her giddiness? You’re not a frivolous child, he’d scolded—albeit with a smile, the first time she’d confessed her racing heart when they courted.
Thinking back, she wondered why he hadn’t patted her head like a puppy.
Ahead, gleaming aspen groves tiptoed up the hills and the Sawatches wore snow like a shining crown. Her mood sang in the fresh, crisp air. Mountains had become part of her. No going back to the plains.
“What will Bible study be like?” Bronx asked, reminding her of the handsome man accompanying her, and her heart pittered. He’d suggested a longer walk to the mission, trekking around Poplar Street first, so as to recognize more of the neighborhoods. In her head, she knew he was right about his ambition to become more familiar if he chose to stay, but in her heart, crazy and impossible as it all was, she wanted him to simply long to be with her.
He took her elbow to guide her past a puddle. Doubtful he was interested, she was at least surprised he remembered. And her heart preened again. And her skin tickled beneath her clothes.
“I have led the study many times. The Book of Esther.” She sighed, and the sound matched the breath of the Sawatches. “A few women from the traditional congregations attend from time to time. Mostly, I suspect, they’re curious as to a woman not keeping silent in the church. Likely, their husbands have forbidden them.” She giggled. “But we—Gethsemane is not a dedicated edifice. Just a place where people gather. So, perhaps they do find me interesting, and might even have liked me in a different life.”
Bronx’s footfalls halted for a brief second against the gravel in the road. “Why can’t they like you now?”
“I consort with…you know. The plumage of the evening.” She hurried across Third, stopping once for a rider hell-bent on somewhere.
“Do any of the—uh, plumes attend your session? Considering, uh, they don’t work in the daytime?” Bronx’s gorgeous cheekbones reddened like claret as he caught up.
She had to slow, had to laugh. They stopped in front of a pretty house with dark green gingerbread trim. A nice house for a bride, then a family. The stray thought halted at once, and her smile stopped along with it. Emmett had once admired a tiny pink cottage two blocks north, but had needed the deposit money more for the Pennsylvania fireplace. To warm the people whose names he barely remembered.
Well, the big stove did keep the needy warm at night. And her, as well. Last night in Bronx’s arms warmed her through all over again.
“Yes, of course. And they are always made welcome. But otherwise, I don’t pry.” But she had once, before Malina. To ask a needful question a decent woman couldn’t address in proper society. How a wife might...
“Well, anybody’d be proud to be your friend. And kind of you to take on the word of God.” Beneath his Stetson, the edges of Bronx’s hair tussled with the wind. It seemed a lighter hue today. Must somehow be the shadows, although...she’d expect the reverse. Telephone wires tugged against the crossbeams and added new lines of shadow to his hair.
She shrugged. “Emmett prepared the script for me. The things to say. The questions to ask, and more, the answers I must give. And he felt it only proper that I discuss stories about women. Esther. Ruth, Deborah. For I would have the viewpoint of a woman. A man must explain the prophets and judges and apostles.”
“I would say, a book’s a book, even the Good Book, and you can read.” His forehead turned to a furrowed field. “I expect you would do fine discussing any inhabitants of the Bible. Don’t know most of ’em myself. Maybe I ought to attend.”
They sidestepped a pile of horse manure on the road and sent a herd of flies buzzing in the air.
“I’d like that,” she said, meaning it, but doubted he did. But his words about her intellect pleased her all the way through. She watched the toes of her boots poke underneath her deep purple hem as she walked. “Well, you’re welcome any time.”
“Hard, now. Me working and all.”
“Yes. I see you took an outdoors job.”
“You were right, about getting stuck down below. I do like sunshine on my face. In my hair.”