He sighed and met her gaze evenly. She found no solace for her frustration there. “Darlin’, if you were hoping to marry with a man society would admire, your choice fell far short of the mark.”
“I don’t think so.”
“My mother was a whore who’d lay down for any man, no matter how drunk or diseased, if it meant she could get more opium. My father was one of the thousand who’d found relief between her thighs.” This time, he brushed aside her hand before she could touch him. “In case you don’t know what that means, I spent my first years in a cat house in San Antonio, fetching and carrying for the women who worked there. Later, I hustled the streets, searching for food and sleeping in alleys. The nicest thing that ever happened to me was my mother’s death when I turned thirteen.”
He delivered the facts of his birth in an unemotional drawl. No doubt it was in an effort to make her believe it didn’t affect him. She could understand that need to protect oneself. She did it herself. “Are you trying to shock me?”
He sighed, whipped off his hat, and ran his fingers through his hair. “No.”
“Good, because Old Sam already told me what he knew about your background.”
“I never pegged you for a liar.”
“Okay. So all he said was your beginnings were rough, but you were as honest as the day was long, fair in a fight, and a man to hitch my wagon to.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Will you stop that?”
“What?”
“Stop acting like you know what I’m going to say before I say it. It’s a most annoying habit.”
“You weren’t going to say my background didn’t matter? You weren’t going to say what interested you were my other sterling qualities?”
He had the gall to look amused while he stole her thunder. She wanted to smack him. “For an intelligent man, you are incredibly stupid!”
She spun on her heel and marched into the house. Let him stew on that. The screen door gave a satisfying thump as she let it slam behind her. Halfway into the kitchen, she stopped to let her eyes adjust to the dimness. She near jumped out of her skin when the screen door slammed again. She turned and made out Asa’s silhouette. Apparently, he wasn’t a man given to stewing.
“You needn’t look so scared. I didn’t come in here to whale on you, though I’d be well within my rights for that crack.”
She tipped up her chin. “Stupid is as stupid does.”
“You’re pushing it.”
Yes, she was. And she had no idea why. “I’d like to be alone.”
“You owe me some chocolate cake.”
She marched to the cupboard. Opening the door, she pulled down the cake. She resisted the urge to toss it on the table. Instead, she gently set it in the middle. What she really wanted to do was to smash it in his face. How dare he take her apology and make light of it!
“I’ve never welshed on a bet in my life.” Scooping the dirty dishes from her visit with Aaron into a pile, she moved them to the wash basin. Returning to the table with a plate and a fork, she plopped Asa’s place setting before him. Aligning his fork on the napkin, she took the knife and plunged it into the center of the cake. Stepping back, she waved Asa to his seat. “Enjoy.”
Asa looked at the precise place setting. The beautifully frosted cake. The knife still quivering in its center. No doubt about it. His wife was beginning to lose a bit of her starch. “It’s already frosted.”
In that carefully precise voice he was fast coming to hate, she said. “Yes, it is.”
“You tricked me.”
“It’s not my fault you chose to bargain without ascertaining the facts.”
“If that means I get what I deserve for bettin’ blind, I guess you’re right.” He pulled the knife free and waved it at the single plate. “You not planning on having any?”
“I don’t want to spoil my dinner.”
He caught a glob of frosting on his finger before it could splat on the checkered tablecloth. As natural as breathing, the frosting made its way to his mouth. The rich flavor spread through his mouth, seducing him with its promise. “Darlin’, you sure can cook.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want some?” he asked as he cut through the cake.
“No. But you go ahead. I’ll just go upstairs and make myself presentable.”
That quick, she was out of the room. And it was just him and that mouth-watering chocolate cake. He should have been thrilled. He’d only had chocolate cake a few times in his life, but it’d been enough to know it was his favorite. Now he had an entire cake in front of him. It hadn’t cost a week’s wages and he had all the time in the world to enjoy it. He should have been hopping with glee.