“Dorie, dear. You’re doing so well. Why do I find you pouting as if you’ve lost your very best friend?” Mrs. Whitaker asked, as afternoon sunlight streamed into her kitchen window.
Dorie shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I have.”
“And whom would that be, might I ask?”
“It’d be Shane, of course. He’s bound and determined to marry Marilee. Mr. Barkley’s found her and he’s bringing her home. I’ll have just enough time to meet with the Parkers before Shane has to marry a woman he doesn’t want.”
Mrs. Whitaker set a piece of pecan pie in front of her. Dorie didn’t have the heart to eat a thing. She thanked her for the offer but shoved the plate away.
“And how do you know that he doesn’t want to marry Marilee?”
“Because he doesn’t like being with her the way he likes being with me.”
“Has he told you that?”
Dorie thought back to the early morning when she’d tended to Shane’s wounds. His body told her what he couldn’t say, then finally she’d managed to get him to admit he didn’t react the same to Marilee. Dorie only understood it because she’d felt the same warm throbbing in her lower regions every time Shane kissed her, every time he’d touched her. “He tells me with his body—” she blurted. “Oh, I didn’t mean that exactly how it came out. He and I, uh, we haven’t done anything wrong. Honest.”
Mrs. Whitaker smiled. “I think I understand. It hasn’t been so long ago that I don’t recall how it feels to be falling in love.”
“Love?” Dorie shook her head. “No, I don’t love Shane. I loved my mama and I love Jeremiah, but, well… I don’t know. I’ve never been in love before. As for Shane, he certainly doesn’t love me. Half the time, he seems unhappy to see me. And lately, well, I haven’t seen him at all since mean old Mr. Barkley came by Shane’s place threatening him.”
“Dorie, Shane has a lot to consider. He’s worked hard to build up his spread. He’s a man of honor. And he made Marilee a promise not too long ago. He made you a promise, too. And as much as it might be hurting him, he’s trying to do the right thing for both of you. You wouldn’t want him to back out of his promise to you any more than Marilee wants him to break his promise to her.”
Dorie took a minute to let it all sink in. She hadn’t thought of the situation exactly that way. “He’s in a pickle, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I’d say so. So, why don’t you concentrate on the situation with the Parkers instead. We still have work to do. As I said, you’re coming along, Dorie. You’re making tremendous progress.”
“Really? I don’t feel like I am, and every time I read the book I get more confused. Heavens, I barely understood the chapter on ‘Gentility and Refinement of Manners in All the Relations of Home and Society.’ I don’t even understand what the title means. Sometimes, I think I’ll never convince the Parkers of anything.”
Mrs. Whitaker slid the plate of pie her way again. “Eat up, Dorie. I think I have the solution to this.”
“Really,” she said, encouraged by the hopeful tone in Mrs. Whitaker’s voice. She picked up the fork and took a bite of pie. “How?”
“Well, for one. Forget the book. We don’t need it anymore. We’re going to do a real-life rehearsal.”
“A rehearsal? What kind of rehearsal?” Dorie asked, setting down her fork to look intently at her mentor.
“Well, I’m inviting you and Shane over to dinner tomorrow night. You’re to come as a real couple, husband and wife. Iggy and I will pretend that we don’t know the situation. You and Shane need to convince us that you’re married. You’ll be able to see your strengths and weaknesses this way. Afterward, we’ll discuss your success.”
“Or failure?”
“Yes, that, too. Oh, this will be fun. We’ll see how far both of you have come along.”
“Do you think Shane will agree?”
Mrs. Whitaker patted her arm. “I’ll see that he does. Don’t worry about him. Just present yourself as Shane’s wife. I’ll have him pick you up at six o’clock tomorrow evening. You just be ready.”
Dorie’s spirits lifted. Mrs. Whitaker made it all seem so possible. And this way they’d know for sure if they were convincing as a couple. If only Shane would go along with the ruse. A dozen thoughts streamed through Dorie’s mind and excitement stirred deep down in her belly. She’d find out now what it would be like being Shane’s wife.
If only for an evening.
“Did you write to Henry in Virginia City?” Dorie asked Jeremiah the minute he woke from sleep the next day. Still in his brown-and-white-striped nightshirt, he’d moseyed into the kitchen and grabbed a biscuit.
Squinting from dawning sunlight, he answered, “I told you I did. Right when you asked me to.”
“And?”
“And he wrote back, Dorie. I just forgot to tell you. He invited me to stay with him while the three of us are in Virginia City. His mama says I’m welcome anytime. Just like always.”
“That’s good, Jeremiah. I just can’t afford spending money on two hotel rooms while we’re there. And I know you’d like to see Henry. You and he would play for hours and hours when you were little ones. I’m glad you stayed friends even though he moved away.”
Jeremiah shrugged and rubbed his eyes with two fists just as he did when he was a child, which made Dorie smile and feel a jolt of sadness at the same time. She loved her brother so much. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. And now, everything would be over in just a few days. The Parkers were due to arrive in Virginia City on Saturday. This being Tuesday, Dorie had only three more days before she and Shane ventured to town. She figured to get there a day ahead of the Parkers, to settle in and get accustomed to the surroundings.
Besides, Dorie had other business to conduct in Virginia City, and she had to find a way to get some private time while there. Going to Virginia City had always excited her before, and she’d always come home with enough cash to see her through the bad times. The only part she didn’t like was when she had to sneak around. Keeping secrets hadn’t been one of Dorie’s best qualities, but in this case she had to. She’d been keeping this secret for three years.
“Sit down, Jeremiah. I made you hot oatmeal.”
“Oatmeal again?” he complained, taking a seat at the wooden table.
“I thought you liked oatmeal.”
“I do. It’s just that I’m tired of it. I have it every day, practically.”
Dorie let out a deep slow sigh of regret. At times like these, she wondered if she shouldn’t just let Jeremiah go home with the Parkers. They’d have more than oatmeal to offer him in the morning. Probably he’d fill his belly stuffing down thick bacon strips and juicy ham slices, fluffy eggs and fancy pastries and all. He’d probably have the finest clothes and go to the best schools. “I’ll fix you a better breakfast tomorrow,” she offered softly.
Jeremiah looked up and she couldn’t hide her crestfallen face from him. “I don’t mind oatmeal, Dorie.”
“I wish I could provide better for you, Jeremiah. Maybe it’d be best for you to go with the Parkers.”
Jeremiah stood so abruptly the chair squeaked noisily against the wooden floor. His eyes gleamed with indignation. “I won’t go, Dorie. You can’t make me. I’d eat a thousand pounds of oatmeal and I still won’t want to leave here. Gosh,” he said, tears misting in his eyes. “All I said was that I get tired of oatmeal once in a while.”
His face red, his hands trembling, Dorie reached for him and hugged him tight. “I’m sorry for saying that. You won’t have to go with the Parkers, Jeremiah. I promise. I can’t bear to think of living here without you. It’s you and me, always. Right?”
He nodded and Dorie figured he couldn’t get the words out from the choked up feeling and tears falling down his cheeks. “I’m doing all I can, little brother, to keep you with me.”
“I…know.”
“I think everybody’s nerves are jumbled lately,” she said, giving him one last squeeze before she let him go. “But it’ll be over soon. The Parkers will see what a fine life we live. They’ll see that you’re happy living in Silver Hills with me and…with Shane.”
Jeremiah wiped his eyes and cast her a dubious glance. “Shane and I are going to Mrs. Whitaker’s tonight for a rehearsal of sorts. We’re going to pretend to be married. And hopefully we’ll be so convincing that the Parkers won’t have any doubts in their heads about it.”
“I guess that’s good. Right?”
“I’m hoping it goes all right.”
“What about me? Shouldn’t I know what you’re planning?”
“You? Why, I hadn’t thought about you, Jeremiah.” And Dorie realized how true that was. She’d been so absorbed in learning how to be a lady and Shane’s wife that she hadn’t thought of what Jeremiah might need to know. “That’s right, you’re going to have to learn about us, our…marriage,” she said with a lifting of her lips, “and our life at Shane’s ranch. Maybe you should come with us to Mrs. Whitaker’s.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “No. You go with Shane. You’re pretending to be his wife, so go do it. You can teach me what I need to learn another time.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll sit down with you tomorrow. It’ll be better this way. Because whatever problems we find tonight, we’ll correct and then I’ll have all the information you’ll need to know. But I’m warning you, Jeremiah. It’s necessary to stretch the truth. I know you don’t like doing that.”
“You mean…lie, don’t you, Dorie?”
Dorie bit down on her lip. There was no fooling her brother. She nodded. “Yes, but for the greater good.”
“Whatever that means. I’ll do it to stay here with you. I’ll do and say whatever I have to.”
Dorie heard regret in his words and felt it in her heart, as well. She didn’t like putting him through this. Lord knows, she wasn’t being entirely fair to Shane either, and she herself wasn’t much for deception. Unless absolutely necessary.
Dorie was one hundred percent certain this was necessary.
“What are your plans today?”
“I’m riding over to Shane’s.”
“Aren’t the Boyds going over there today?”
“Yep, but Shane’s going into town. He’s on some sort of mission and he asked if I could spend a few hours helping out.”
Dorie wondered what kind of mission would take him off to town today. She only hoped Mrs. Whitaker had convinced him to come over for the rehearsal. Dorie cringed thinking of Shane’s expression when the older woman explained her plans for the evening. “Okay then, finish your meal and I’ll clean up the kitchen. Then I’ve got some chores to do myself. There’s so much to do before meeting up with the Parkers on Saturday.”
Dorie picked up plates and began washing, listening to the sound of Jeremiah scraping two bowls of oatmeal, clean.
She smiled.
And felt more hopeful than she had in days.
Later that afternoon, Dorie looked over the dress she’d worn to Shane’s the other day when she’d helped deliver the calf. She’d washed it twice since then, darned a rip near the hem, but still the dress didn’t look clean enough to wear tonight. Wrinkled and with some mud stains still visible, the once pretty pink-and-yellow calico wasn’t fit for wearing in public.
Dorie rifled through her drawers, pulling out her options and placing them on the bed. She had a cream-colored lace blouse with a high collar that buttoned down the back that she’d considered appropriate enough for church. But all of her skirts were loose-fitting in tones of drab grays and browns. She’d never had occasion to wear anything nice, not since she was a little girl when her mama would fix her up so pretty and take her to Sunday services. No, her clothes these days were only practical enough to wear while milking the cow, making tallow and churning butter. She’d never had call for anything else.
She’d wear the cream blouse and the cheeriest of her gray skirts to Mrs. Whitaker’s house tonight. In her mind she counted away the hours before her rendezvous with Helene and Oliver Parker. Dorie knew now what she had to do, and began to set her plan in motion. She’d work into the wee hours of the night if necessary.
With her plan set firmly in her mind, she boiled water over the cookstove and set about taking a lavender-scented bath. The book had full instructions on how to make oneself presentable and, though Mrs. Whitaker had said they didn’t need the book’s advice any longer, Dorie liked the idea of soaking in scented water and scrubbing her hair clean before meeting with Shane tonight.
Dorie brought the oval-shaped steel tub in from outside and set it into the kitchen. One day, she hoped to have a nice porcelain tub long enough to stretch full out and relax in. Shane had a tub like that and she’d soaked in his tub the other day, but he hadn’t been all too happy about it.
“Forget about Shane,” she scolded herself. “Just concentrate on what you have to do, Isadora McCabe.”
Dorie filled the tub with one bucket of cold water, then three more buckets of water she’d heated up real good. She watched as steam wafted up before dropping in a small amount of lavender oil. Mrs. Whitaker had given her both the lavender oil and an egg-shaped fancy soap that smelled like someplace far away, someplace…exotic. At least that’s what Mrs. Whitaker had said. The flowery scent drifted up inside the room and Dorie removed all of her clothes and sunk down deep into the tub. She closed her eyes, enjoying the peace and got as comfortable as possible in the steaming hot tub. She began to wash her body clean using the scented soap. The fragrant lather slid down her body, softening up her skin. When she was finished with her body, she leaned way back and let the water bathe her hair. She sudsed the wet tresses all the way down to the ends, then put a dollop of lavender oil in her hand and worked it through, lightly wondering if the oil would make her hair glisten like sunshine.
Dorie rested back in the tub, too relaxed now to think. She enjoyed the hot water caressing her neck, and though her knees weren’t immersed, she could just about fit the rest her body in the water. She soaked with eyes closed and drifted off.
Shane brought the buckboard up to Dorie’s house an hour earlier than he’d been instructed. He’d dressed in his Sunday best, but his heart wasn’t in this dinner that Mrs. Whitaker had proposed. He’d been doing just fine lately, keeping his distance from Dorie. And that’s exactly what he’d intended to do, until they made their trip to Virginia City. Soon their unholy ruse would begin and, he hoped, end in a matter of days. But the invitation wasn’t one Alberta would allow him to refuse, and if this dress rehearsal helped send the Parkers packing then it would be worth it. He’d be free of his obligation to help Dorie any further.
He took the steps to her front door and was about to knock when Jeremiah sauntered by, holding a lead rope on Lightning. “Hey, Shane. You coming for Dorie?”
He nodded. “I’m a little early.”
“S’okay. Go on in. Dorie won’t mind. She’s probably in there fixing supper for me or fussing with her hair, getting ready.”
“You sure?”
Jeremiah squinted into the late-afternoon sunlight. “I’m sure. I’ve got to groom Lightning. She needs a real good rubdown for all the riding I’ve been doing lately, then I’ll be in.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Jeremiah nodded, his dark blue eyes fixed on what Shane held in his hand. Shane held the package to his side, trying not to bring attention to it.
“What you got there?”
“Uh, something for Dorie is all.”
Jeremiah’s dark russet hair fell into his eyes as he cocked his head, trying to get a better look from his spot near the barn. “It’s not her birthday or nothing, is it?”
Shane didn’t know when Dorie’s birthday was, though he did remember an invitation for cake one year. “Don’t think so.”
Then the young boy’s eyes lit. “You brought her a gift. Oh, she’s gonna go on and on about it. Nobody brings Dorie gifts.”
Shane realized too late that that was probably true. He hoped Dorie wouldn’t read more into the gesture than was fitting and proper. He wasn’t a gentleman caller, bearing gifts in order to gain a woman’s affections. No, this was simply a token of…repayment. Yes, that’s what it was.
“It’s not that kind—”
But Jeremiah had already lost interest and had entered the barn. Shane spun around and opened Dorie’s front door. “Dorie!” he called out. “You in here?”
When she didn’t answer, he headed for the kitchen. Jeremiah had said she was most likely cooking him supper. He approached the door and a flowery fragrance, light, airy and completely female, teased his senses. How odd for that scent to be coming from the kitchen. He popped his head inside the door and peered inside.
And witnessed a sleeping Dorie, buck naked, lying inside an oval basin bathtub.
All the air rushed out of Shane’s chest. He swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from the most serene and beautiful sight he’d ever encountered. With her nearly dry coppery locks draped over the tub, Dorie was exposed to him, her face peaceful, her breasts, full and ripe and peeking out from the still water, her shapely legs drawn up at the knee. Shane knew he shouldn’t look. He should tear his gaze away and back out of the room, but his feet stayed planted. He watched the gentle easing of her chest, viewed the creamiest skin a man could ask for and gazed upon liquid-veiled auburn curls that concealed her womanhood.
Shane took a calming breath and continued watching her, his manhood fully alert. He wanted nothing more than to forget about this dinner with the Whitakers, remove all his clothes and join Dorie in that tub. He ached to touch her again, to kiss her lips and weigh the twin rosy-tipped globes in hand. Something began to snap within, but he pulled hard with all his might to rein in lusty thoughts of making love to Dorie, driving his body deep into hers and pleasuring them both.
Shane shuddered at his own thoughts, hating himself for not having more control. He understood the moment for what it was, realizing that he would never again witness Dorie in such a state. He reminded himself of her youth and inexperience. She was vulnerable to him because he agreed to help her. He couldn’t take advantage of her. He wouldn’t.
With one last look, Shane finally did back away, entering the parlor. Then he thought better of being inside the house with Dorie, opting for the porch, where the cool air might hasten to bring him some relief. He exited the house through the front door and waited.
But the image of Dorie swamped his body with heat, and no amount of cool afternoon air would ebb the tide that flowed within him.
He cursed himself for not heeding his own dire warnings to stay away from Dorie. He cursed himself for his lack of willpower. He cursed himself for wanting her the way a man wants a woman. His mind told him no, but his body begged to differ. His body begged…for her.
Shane shook off that ill notion and scratched his forehead so hard he drew blood. He winced and cursed aloud this time.
“Shane?” Dorie stood just inside her doorway, wearing an overly large robe, wrapped together with tie strings, looking at him curiously. But all he could think about was what she probably didn’t have on underneath that robe. He cursed again.
“Shane, did you cut your head?”
“No—yes. It’s nothing.” He stared at her, his mind flashing images of her sleeping naked in that tub.
“Come in. I’ll tend to it.”
“No. Don’t worry about it.”
She narrowed her eyes, ready to argue, but he shook his head and, for once, Dorie didn’t argue. “O-kay.”
He followed her inside, the package weighing heavily in his arms. Suddenly, he felt like a fool.
“Am I late?” she asked. “I must have fallen asleep in the tub.”
Shane closed his eyes and prayed for mercy. “No, I came a little bit early.”
She smiled and cast him another puzzled look. “Why?”
“I, uh…” He shoved the package at her. “Here. This is for you.”
Surprise registered on Dorie’s face as she stared down at the package. “For me?”
He nodded. “Just open it.”
Dorie sat on the parlor sofa and rested the package in her lap. She made a fuss over the ribbon ties, carefully unwinding them, then removing the paper. She lifted out the light blue dress and stood to gain a better look at it fully. “Oh, this is…it’s so pretty, Shane.”
Shane had hoped she would think so. It wasn’t fancy by any measure—a simple dress from the general store—but the color suited her eyes and he judged the fit would be right. “You ruined your dress in the mud the other day and don’t say you didn’t. I know it was damaged beyond repair.”
“But you didn’t have to do this.”
“I, uh—” he began and swallowed hard. “I wanted to.” And that was the truth. Shane had more critical things to spend his money on, but something compelled him to gift Dorie with something she really needed. She’d helped tend him when he was injured, then helped save his heifer and the calf, doing so without qualm; purchasing her a new dress seemed the least he might do.
“It’s too much,” she whispered. Apparently, Mrs. Whitaker’s instruction was taking, because the old Dorie would have said what she’d really meant. That he couldn’t afford it.
“It’s just a simple dress,” he said, feeling awkward.
“Oh, Shane. It’s very thoughtful of you.” She set down the dress and walked over to him. “Thank you. I’ll wear it tonight.”
“Fine. I thought you might need, uh…might want to wear it tonight.”
She smiled and reached for the dress. Then, on an impulse he clearly witnessed by the light in her eyes, she pressed a kiss to his lips.
Shane closed his eyes, breathing in the sweetly feminine scent of exotic flowers, and imagining untying that robe to press his hands inside and caress her soft skin.
He jammed his hands in the pockets of his trousers, willing himself to keep from doing all those things. Willing himself from disrobing Dorie, picking her up in his arms and marching straight into her bedroom.
Lucky for him, Dorie broke off the kiss quickly. Then she smiled into his eyes. “I love the dress. You’re the most honorable man I know, Shane Graham.”
And once again Shane was reminded of all the reasons he shouldn’t touch Dorie McCabe ever again.