The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,10

the float on a line with a fish on the hook.

“Good morning, dear Sophie. I must say, you look positively beautiful.”

Sophie twirled her parasol in absent fashion. She would have to speak. He’d put himself directly in her path again. The quick once-over she gave him was out of habit. As often as she looked and as close the inspection, his appearance did not entice her, but she managed a smile in response to his praise.

“Why, thank you, Alfonso.”

He shuffled nervously as he stood, manfully tried to lift his gaze above her breasts, but for a man Alfonso’s size, it was nearly impossible. Sophie’s bosom was too close to his eye level and she’d left too much of it bare to ignore.

Sophie fanned herself as Alfonso’s eyes glazed over. She thought of how long it had been since she’d had a man in her bed and fanned a little faster.

Alfonso frowned. “Sophie dear, are you all right?”

“It’s just the heat. I’d best be on my way. I want to finish my errands before the day gets any hotter.”

Alfonso offered her his arm, his accounts and the bank quickly forgotten.

“Allow me.”

Sophie slipped her hand beneath his elbow. Gentlemen were few and far between in Lizard Flats and manners forbade her to ignore his offer. She stifled a sigh, wishing Alfonso was more of a man. It never entered her mind that he might be her secret admirer. He was the banker who stored her money and nothing more.

Upon entering Goslin’s General Store, she released the catch on her parasol, letting it fold like a wounded bird. Inside, the shade was welcome, even if the odors that came with it were not.

Matt Goslin was the size of a buffalo and nearly as wooly. He carried an assortment of goods ranging from asafetida to bear traps and everything in between. Sophie was never sure what it was that smelled the strongest, but the heat of the day and how close she got to the storekeeper seemed to have a lot to do with it.

“Mornin’ Miz Sophie.”

Matt eyed the buxom widow’s escort with a baleful glare. He’d had his sights set on Nardin Hollis’s widow since the day of old Nardin’s funeral, yet no matter how many overtures toward courtship he had made, she kept turning him down. Finally in desperation, Matt had turned to Letty Murphy at the White Dove Saloon for relief from his manly needs. What she gave could hardly be called affection, and whatever attention he got cost him a dollar on a regular basis. It was, however, better than nothing, which was exactly what he’d gotten from Sophie Hollis.

Sophie nodded primly at Matt as she laid her list upon the counter for him to fill. She watched as he peered at the scrap of paper, using a grimy finger as a guide while he read it slowly, spelling out the words, item by item. It was all the proof Sophie needed to eliminate Matt Goslin as her admirer. No way could he be the one writing such beautiful missives when he could barely read.

Unaware of Sophie’s thoughts, Matt was mentally ticking off the items she wished to purchase. When he got to the last one on the list, he looked up.

Frowning, he scratched his belly through a hole in his shirt while subversively measuring the size of Sophie Hollis’s breasts in comparison to Letty Murphy’s over at the White Dove. They seemed of about the same size, but he knew from experience with Letty that one too many men had sucked on that cow’s tit for his liking. What he’d like was a chance at Sophie Hollis. He’d show her what a real man was all about. Then he remembered what he’d been about to say.

“Ain’t got no cinnamon. Shipment’s due in next week. Maybe I’ll have some by then.”

She pouted, aware that both men’s eyes went straight to her lips as she’d intended. “And I did so want to make fresh apple pies. My trees are just loaded.”

Alfonso almost danced in a circle before he got himself calm enough to speak. “I have cinnamon. Sometimes I use it in my tea. I’d be glad to loan you some. Maybe you could see clear to making me one of your fine pies in return. I hear you’re quite a cook.”

Sophie flushed. Praise always did go straight to her head.

“Why thank you, Alfonso. I do believe I will borrow some. Just until Matt gets in his new shipment, you understand.