“Cook taught me how to make that chocolate pie you like so much!” she said abruptly. “If we can afford the ingredients, I’ll make one for the weekend!”
He laughed. “She did, huh? I think we can afford to splurge a little on food.” He searched her eyes. “You are one of a kind,” he said softly.
“So are you, Butch,” she replied, flushing a little.
He just looked at her, aware of feelings that were slowly getting the better of him. He would have liked nothing better than to take her to the nearest minister and marry her out of hand. But it was early days yet. He had to take his time. And meanwhile, the man who’d killed her mother needed to be found out and brought to justice. He was working on that, without telling Esther.
He felt it was necessary, but he wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Once she was over her grief and out of danger, she’d probably go back to Aspen, where she’d inherit the house her mother owned and those stocks and bonds. Once she had her life back, this time with him might be just a forgotten episode in it. He’d be relegated to a memory that she might take out from time to time. She liked him, but it was unrealistic to think that a woman so pretty and sophisticated would want to settle down in the wilds of Colorado with a crippled man who had nothing except his paycheck to offer.
“Goodness, you look morose!” she exclaimed, studying him. “Was it something I said?”
“Not at all,” he said smoothly. “I’ve got a visiting dignitary to take around tomorrow. I was thinking about where to take him.” It was the truth, but he stretched it a little.
She hesitated. “You’re sure you don’t mind letting me stay here with you? I mean, I could probably afford an apartment . . .”
“Do you want to go?” he asked abruptly.
“No!” She took a deep breath, oblivious to the joy that washed over his features before he contained it. “I mean, it’s nice here, with you and Two-Toes. But I’m a strain on your budget.”
“Some strain,” he muttered. “You keep the house as neat as a pin, you do half the cooking, you cheer me up when life sits on me too hard. I’d . . . miss you, if you left.”
She brightened. “Okay, then.”
He felt his own heart lift.
“Something I’ve been meaning to ask,” she began slowly. She flushed. “Maybe I shouldn’t, though.”
“Spill it, chicken.”
“Well, are we really engaged?” she asked without lifting her eyes.
His eyebrows arched. “Why the question?”
She shifted restlessly. “There are these guys who eat at the restaurant every day,” she said worriedly. “They’re nice, I mean. But they keep asking me to go places with them and I don’t want to. It’s, well, it’s bothering me.”
“Why don’t you want to go out with them?” he wondered aloud.
She drew in a breath. “I just don’t. I’m nervous around most men. It’s hard to trust when you’ve been through what I have, with Mama’s lovers.”
His heart jumped. “You’re not nervous with me.”
“No, I’m not.” She smiled at him warmly. “I love being with you.”
The flush on his cheekbones grew more ruddy.
“Gosh, I’m sorry,” she bit off, wincing. “I just open my mouth and words fall out. I shouldn’t have said . . .”
“I love being with you, too,” he said curtly.
Her expression lightened. “Really?” she asked.
He laughed. “Really.”
She sighed. “Okay, then.”
“So you don’t like being bothered by other men. I could offer a suggestion.”
“A suit of armor?” she asked.
He pursed his chiseled lips. “An engagement ring?”
Her lips fell apart. “A ring! You mean it? Honest?”
It wasn’t the reception he’d expected. She was excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. He felt warm all over. “Honest.”
She grinned. “That would be lovely.” She hesitated, and her happy expression turned morose. “Oh. You mean, like a prop, so they’d leave me alone?”
He smoothed his big hand over her small one. “I mean, like a real engagement ring that would lead to a real marriage. Well, someday,” he amended, so she wouldn’t feel threatened or obliged to him. It would certainly keep gossip down. He didn’t want her reputation to suffer, here in this conservative small community.
She stared at him, her eyes bright with feeling. “Wow.”
He chuckled.
She grinned. “But you don’t know me very well,” she began.
“Same here. We could get to know each other. For a few weeks, I mean.” He grimaced. “I’m not putting it well.”