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Chapter Eight

Spring slipped out of bed as quietly as possible. There were horses to feed and because she’d never had a man spend the night before, she had no idea how to navigate the morning after. With those things in mind, she tiptoed around the cold bedroom, gathering her clothes and everything else she needed to start the day, and left him sleeping.

When her chores were completed, she entered the kitchen and found McCray at the stove cooking breakfast. Still unsure how she was supposed to proceed, she said, “Morning, McCray.” Removing her coat and hat, she hung them on the peg.

“Morning, Spring.” He seemed to sense her mood. “Something wrong?”

She considered lying but chose to go withthe truth. “I’ve never had anyone stay overnight and . . .”

“Is this awkward for you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you regret last night?”

She shook her head.

“Had a good time?”

She gave him her first smile of the day.

“Good. Then let’s just let the morning unfold and not worry about what to do. Unless you’d rather I go back to town.”

“No.”

His uncomplicated solution to the situation drained much of her unease and she wondered if that, too, was part of his art. She noticed his slight limp as he moved around. “Your leg bothering you still?”

“It’s a bit stiff after being put through my paces last night.”

Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “Should I apologize?”

“Not on your life. I had a good time, too.”

Memories of last night rose, bringing back the feel of his hands and the power of his kisses. She remembered how it felt when he filled her and the many ways his mouth made her moan. His claim of knowing his way around a woman’s body hadn’t been an idle boast.

“You keep looking at me that way and we’ll be having each other for breakfast instead of bacon and these eggs.”

Caught, she smiled and looked away. “I think breakfast is best for now.”

“Pity.”

His ability to spark desire with just a phrase or a glance was also new for her. She had no idea there were men with such skills walking around in the world. How many other women were going through life thinking sex was something to be endured or dealt with hurriedly because of ham-handed rubes? Last night’s glorious feast of passion and pleasure had been prepared by a brown-skinned wizard who’d left her mesmerized and spellbound. And yes, she’d enjoy another night with him, but that would only amplify her mistake. Although he was someone she was on the cusp of developing feelings for, he’d be going home soon and she refused to be the wailing woman at the train station, clinging to his legs, begging he stay.

They were just sitting down to eat when a knock at the door made Spring sigh and get up to see who was there.

“Do you know where your newspaper fella is?” Odell asked as soon as she opened the door. “Dovie said he didn’t come back to his room lastnight after Glenda’s party, and she’s worried something may have happened to him.”

Spring released another sigh.

“Is that bacon I smell?”

Without waiting for a reply, he followed his nose. Seeing McCray seated at the table, he stopped in surprise and turned to Spring, who stood arms crossed, silent. Odell eyed McCray again. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” she replied.

“Well, that solves the mystery.”

McCray asked, “What mystery?”


Tags: Beverly Jenkins Women Who Dare Historical