Cinnamon and Roses by Heidi Betts

rest, she'd covered her entire form with a long black velvet cape—one he had undoubtedly paid for. He could honestly say he didn't miss seeing her hourglass shape. Wouldn't have missed it even if Sabrina were in
New York
, where he'd supposedly sent her.
    "What are you doing here?” he asked.
    "Visiting you, you ninny,” she said in a high, overly friendly voice. She slipped past him, moving down the hall until she came to the parlor. Without invitation, she strutted across the room and perched upon the nearest wing chair.
    "What do you want, Sabrina?” Caleb asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He stood in the doorway, hoping to convince her of her unwelcomeness . “I thought I told you to go back to
New York
."
    "Well, now, what kind of mistress would I be if I didn't know your moods?” she asked rhetorically. “I knew you didn't mean a word of that nonsense. You were simply upset."
    "I may have been upset, Sabrina, but I also meant what I said. It's time for you to return to
New York
."
    She apparently missed his order—or pretended not to hear—as she looked around the richly decorated room. “Caleb, darling, I have a terrible dilemma,” she said, her gaze moving back to his. “I do hope you'll help me."
    He released a breath. He could just imagine her “dilemma.” Tardy service at the hotel, perhaps. Or, God forbid, a broken fingernail.
    Sabrina pulled a tissue from somewhere beneath the voluminous cape to dab at her heavily made-up eyes. “I'm so mortified, Caleb. You cannot imagine the horror I have suffered at that woman's hands."
    His brow creased. “What woman?” he asked. And then he wondered why he even bothered, for he didn't really care to hear her answer.
    "That woman!” she said vehemently, coming to her feet. “That ... that ... heathen dressmaker.” She flung the cloak from her shoulders, revealing the gown beneath. “Just look what she's done to me!"
    For a moment, Caleb stared in stunned silence. Then he promptly burst into uncontrolled laughter. He laughed until his sides hurt, until every breath became a struggle. And then he laughed some more.
    When his vision once again cleared, he noticed that Sabrina's face was at least three shades darker than the red of her dress. He supposed his reaction wasn't quite what she'd expected.
    "How can you laugh?” she asked bitterly. “How could she think I would wear such an abhorrent piece?"
    "Looks like Rebecca knows you better than you thought,” he said, fighting back a chuckle. He admitted that the bodice was cut a tad low, even for Sabrina. But something about Rebecca's choice in showing that much skin, not only at the chest but also at the leg, struck him as funny. And extremely interesting. Maybe Rebecca wasn't as much of a stodgy old maid as he'd first thought. After all, any woman who would design such a revealing dress had to possess some small depth of sensuality.
    Or, in this case, perhaps simply a desire to show Sabrina in her true light.
    "I cannot believe you find this amusing!” Sabrina railed, breaking into his thoughts. “That woman is trying to ruin me. I'll be a laughingstock in town if anyone sees me in this atrocity."
    "Then don't wear it until you get back to
New York
,” he suggested. “I'm sure your acquaintances there will find it quite attractive."
    "
New York
?” she gasped. “Why, you don't truly mean to send me back, do you? Oh, Caleb,” she cried, hurrying to his side. “I can't return without you."
    "On the contrary, Sabrina.” His tone hardened as he straightened, moving away from her clawing fingertips. “I still expect you to be on the next train East . I thought I made that clear the last time we spoke. In fact, my only question is why you're still in Leavenworth at all. You should be as far as St. Louis by now."
    "You can't tell me to go back,” she stated.
    "I believe I just did.” He walked to the door, opening it in a sweeping gesture. “Good-bye, Sabrina."
    He didn't bother making sure