It was with true affection, though, that he squeezed her hand. He’d have to deal with the heartache of it later.
Emma returned his squeeze. When skin met skin, he realized for the first time that he’d neglected to put a wedding ring on her finger.
Matt groaned inside to think how many men in town might have warmed to his wife, not knowing she was his. His until mid-September, anyway.
“Emma darlin’, we’ve got three more ladies to visit before supper. We should be on our way.”
If he’d had it to do over again, he’d have hustled Emma away before lemonade. It twisted his gut inside out to see the way Woody Vance looked like a melted candle, just watching Emma walk out the front door. Vance would be a happy man if he knew about Billy’s meddling.
Matt prayed to be well on his way to California before his wife took up with another man.
* * *
Emma sat at a table beside the window of Del Monico’s, grateful for a few moments alone. Matt had escorted her inside, then remembered an errand that couldn’t wait. He’d promised to be back before she finished her wine.
She shouldn’t drink the wine at all. Her head spun like a leaf in the wind as it was. Her heart had flopped over in dizziness some time back.
Her husband had been jealous of Woodrow Vance! The signs of it had been clear as sunrise. Back at Sarah’s house, he’d gripped her hand and all but snarled at Sarah’s poor brother in spite of the tight, surface-friendly words he’d spoken.
Of course, Woodrow had been too smitten to notice. She’d be surprised if he’d even recognized that her name was Mrs. Suede.
But Emma felt the name. It warmed her more thoroughly than the wine on her tongue. It made her insides glow, like lightning bugs partying in her belly.
The front door opened and Billy walked in with Sarah Michaels on his arm. Matt’s cousin claimed that he wasn’t the marrying kind, but Sarah certainly brought a smile to his face. The pair greeted her, then took a table across the room.
She looked out the window. Across the street, a man lit a lamp in the gathering dusk. Someone began to bang out a frisky tune from the saloon next door. Matt came out of Rath and Wright’s, followed by Mr. Wright, who closed and locked the door behind him.
Over the tinny music Emma heard Matt singing while he crossed the street. As usual, the sound of his voice touched her soul, even though he sang the bawdy words that went to the saloon’s music.
When he stepped inside, he took off his hat and shook his hair. He smiled at her and crossed the crowded room with long bold strides.
The click of his boots on the wood floor made women’s heads turn. Their subtle gazes followed him all the way to the table. When he slid into the chair across from her she felt them sigh as deeply as she did.
“Your business didn’t take long,” she said.
Matt called for the waiter to bring him a tall whiskey.
“You look as pretty as sunset tonight, Emma.”
Matt reached across the table and covered her hand. His big calloused fist on her skin made the fireflies in her belly explode. If this tender touching was just for show, what might happen to her if it ever became sincere?
“You’re right handsome yourself, cowboy.” Emma squeezed his hand. It was such a subtle pressure that not a soul would know that it had happened, except Matt. She wanted him to understand that not every display of affection was for the benefit of the marshal. In fact, the lawman wasn’t even here.
The waiter brought Matt’s whiskey. He stood up, brought his chair to her side of the table and slid in beside her, sitting closer than casual friends would.
“It won’t be long until the house is finished.” He twirled his whiskey in the glass without drinking it. He watched it swirl, then put it down.
“It’s a fine house. More than I could ever have dreamed for.” The trouble was, lately her dreams hadn’t been only of the house. They had been of her and Matt together in the house. All alone in the bedroom of the house.
The waiter approached the table and Matt ordered dinner. Even though he claimed to be starved, he looked nervous, as though he were sitting on an anthill instead of a cushion.